


Did you hear the word?

by 00FFFF



Category: Hermitcraft
Genre: Angst/Tragedy, Blood, Comedy, Gen, Gore, Horror, Permadeath, TGWDLM, The guy who didn't like musicals AU, and characters such as Renbob and Captain Angry Eyes are their own people, elybeatmaker, emeto tw, events might occur in a different order, for there are some hermits who weren’t in s6, hivemind - Freeform, season 6, takes place in Season 6 but you need to suspend your belief a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00FFFF/pseuds/00FFFF
Summary: It seemed like an ordinary, albeit heavy storm. Until the following morning hermits began singing... Infecting others with their catchy tunes.Now, Mumbo doesn’t like singing, per se. And he definitely doesn’t like dancing. Quickly, the server grinds to a halt as Mumbo and his friends try to fight this musical apocalypse, as they try to find a way to stop the server from collapsing.Based on Team Starkid’s The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals & elybeatmaker’s remixes
Comments: 185
Kudos: 189





	1. Setting the scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As is mentioned in the summary, this fic is based on the musical ‘The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals’ by Team Starkid, which can be found on youtube [right here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IrxKX44qBJ0&) I cannot recommend it enough- it’s truly horrific & hilarious at the same time.
> 
> That said, if you don’t want to watch it and instead just read this fic, that should be no problem! I hope I can do its themes and plot justice..! These are two of my favorite pieces of media, and I’m glad to finally share it with you all!
> 
> Enough said now. Enjoy!!

Mumbo wipes his brow, effectively smearing more redstone dust all over his face. He’s backstage at Sahara, knee-deep in redstone components, working on some upgrades to the wiring, whilst Iskall is sorting out their monthly bills back in the main office.

He takes a look at his watch and decides that he deserves a little break. Mumbo drops his items in a shulker, makes a mental note of where he left off, and walks back to the meeting room.

“Hey Iskall, I’m heading out for a bit!” He says as he walks towards the opening in the window- their unofficial front entrance.

“Oh! Don’t forget to pick up some more gravel, all right?” Iskall looks up from behind the stacks and stacks of papers.

“I thought that was your job?”

“Well, you see...” Iskall laughs sheepishly, shrugging with a few documents in his hands. “We need these done by the end of the day, and...”

“Alright, alright. I’ll go get it.” Mumbo shakes his head, smiling. Iskall always left this kind of paperwork until the very last moment.

Well, maybe a stroll around the shopping district would do him good. He’d get some fresh air, chat with Grian over at his other job... just like he always does when he’s on a break, really.

See, while Grian was a part of the Sahara team as well, he’d done his part for the company already. He did a magnificent job on the building, he was there for all the meetings, and when they needed something added, Grian was on it first thing in the morning. But he needed to upkeep his other shops as well, seeing as Sahara wasn’t exactly making a profit. _Not yet, at least!_ Mumbo thinks. _When we break even, Grian could come back and depend on us 100%. It shouldn’t be long before we-_

“Oh hey, Mumbo!” Grian greets him. _Whoa-_ Mumbo is shaken from his thoughts. Has he really walked all the way to Grian’s travelling cart already? 

“You’ve er,” He gestures towards his own nose. “you’ve got something on your...”

Mumbo hastily wipes at his face. “Hey G.” He smiles. _Crap,_ he completely forgot what he was working on before he came here. Mumbo straightens his tie, letting himself be distracted by all the knick knacks and boxes in the back of the cart.

“What brings you to my fine establishment today?” Grian raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, well... Iskall sent me over to pick up some gravel. Got any in stock today?”

Grian smirks as he starts digging through a chest. “Oh really? _Iskall_ sent you? You didn’t come here by your own volition?”

Mumbo stumbles over his words. “Wh- Dude! I just... I just miss your face around the office, that’s all! I thought I’d pay a visit to my best friend and neighbor, since we barely see each other anymore!”

“Aww, Mumbo...” Grian coos, though Mumbo can see a blush creeping up on his features.

“I’m flattered.” He says. “But that will be five diamonds, please.” 

Mumbo rolls his eyes and digs into his pockets, pulling out five shiny blue rocks. Grian pops them into his ender chest, and hands over the gravel.

“What, I don’t get a complementary shulker box to transport all this?”

“Sorry, can’t afford those luxuries. I mean, look at the state of my cart!” Grian gestures towards his build. Mumbo looks at the torn fabric overhead, at the rotting wood, and the backside which is held together by various planks haphazardly hammered in place. The wheels have sunk into the ground and some spokes are broken, effectively binding the cart to its spot. Not much of a ‘Travelling Merchant’, is he?

Mumbo rolls his eyes again, earning him a laugh.

“I just hope you’ll be able to get back to Sahara soon. It’s not much longer now! Once we’ve finished these upgrades, the diamonds should start rolling in!”

“I know, Mumbo, I know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it looks like I have other customers.” Grian pats him on his shoulder. Mumbo turns around and, sure enough, Xisuma was standing in line behind him.

“If it’s diamonds you need, why not open up another small business venture?” The admin says.

Grian cocks his head to the side. The man’s already swamped with work, but when diamonds are on the line he just can’t resist, Mumbo knows.

“What do you mean?”

“Sell your services! There’s already plenty of shops selling building materials and decorative blocks, but services- Testing out redstone, landscaping, things like that... The server needs them!”

Grian seems to entertain this thought for a little while. Mumbo doesn’t stick around to hear the rest of it, though. Gravel, especially at this quantity, weighs quite a bit, and he’d like to make it back to the office before his back gives out. So, Mumbo waves goodbye and goes on his way.

Grian’s laugh echoes through his mind as he walks back. It was a short talk, but it cheered Mumbo up quite a bit. The rest of his workday goes by in a flurry. Before he knows it, the sun is setting, and he’s talking with Iskall about everything that they’ve accomplished today.

Just as they go to say their goodbyes, rain starts to pour. Harsh winds pick up, sending raindrops flying straight through the hole in the glass into the meeting room.

Iskall quickly shuts the window. Winds begin to howl as they rush past the hard angles of the building, the rain coming down harder and harder. If they didn’t have a concrete maker already this would do the trick nicely. Iskall shoots Mumbo a look.

“I think I’ll stay here for the night. How about you?”

Mumbo shakes his head. “I have to get back, I haven’t got any spare clean suits lying around for the meeting tomorrow.” He walks up to the glass wall.

Iskall sighs. “Oh, crap, I forgot about that meeting with ConCorp. I- I’ll make myself presentable, I’ll figure something out.” Mumbo nods at him. He’s debating whether or not to use his elytra in this kind of weather.

Suddenly Iskall puts his hand on Mumbo’s shoulder, Mumbo yelps.

“Jeez, Iskall- don’t scare me like that!”

Iskall just laughs. “Sorry dude, I didn’t know you were this scared by a little rain!” But as he says those words, lightning crashes down and thunder rolls in the near distance. Iskall’s grip on Mumbo’s shoulder tightens.

“Well, um...” He gulps. “Be careful out there, man. Message me when you get home safe, okay?” Mumbo nods at him, readying his elytra. He grabs a stack of rockets, lord knows he’ll need them to fight the wind to get up to his base.

\----

_ <falsesymmetry> holy crap, you guys, did you hear that? _

_ <Grian> that was close by _

_ <iJevin> too close for my comfort _

_ <Stressmonster101> X, can’t you turn this storm off? Just this once, pleeeeease??? _

_ <Xisuma> This really is an unusual storm._

_ <Tango> I thought about going out to my wither skull farm but it doesnt seem like such a good idea now _

_ <Xisuma> No, definitely don’t go out right now. _

_ <impulseSV> how’s the code, X? _

_ <Xisuma> It’s weird... it’s really weird. _

_ <impulseSV> huh? _

_ <Xisuma> There is no code. _

_ <Renthedog> O.o _

_ <Xisuma> Try to catch some sleep. If you notice anything strange, contact me, okay? _

_ <Grian> got it! _

_ <joehillssays> Stay safe, yall! _

\----

Grian pulls his sweater over his head in an effort to shelter himself from the rain, but it pours straight through. He grunts, wiping his hair away from his face, struggling against the gusts of wind as he makes his way through the shopping district.

He’s carrying two shulkers full of sand back home. No way is he going to leave so much precious, grindy material out in his shoddy cart, ready for this storm to sweep it all away. Grian huffs and deploys his elytra, spamming rockets to get back to his base before it’s dark enough for mobs to spawn.

\----

Xisuma looks at the multiple screens displayed before him. He scrolls through seemingly endless lines of code, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Usually, a storm like this wouldn’t pose him any problems. But the data of this one is nowhere to be found. So many particles at once were bound to leave a trace, and he should be able to cancel it with a little bit of admin magic. But this time... this time was strange, to say the least.

X sighs as his eyes begin to feel dry. He can’t focus anymore, so he takes off his helmet. He’d deal with this in the morning. Whatever it was, the server could handle it, he was sure. 

\----

Doc slips out of his bunker, hands in front of his eyes as he strains to look at the strange clouds swirling in the sky.

“Captain!” He yells back inside. “It’s happening...” 

Another bolt of lightning crashes down and Doc turns back to the storm. “Come on you bastard! You don’t think I’m ready for you?! I’ve been waiting in the wings for so long!”

The storm doesn’t react to him, however. After a few more breaths without a strike of lightning Doc slips back inside, joining Captain Angry Eyes behind the controls. His coworker points at the screen; the radar has picked up an unidentified object.  
The Captain and Doc look at each other, concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Ren said in chat: O.o
> 
> Yall you have no idea how incredibly excited I am about finally sharing this with everybody!! I hope I piqued your interest, and that you'll join me for the ride that's to come!!  
> Also, if you do decide to watch the musical first & if you haven't before, let me know what you think about that! I'm curious :D!


	2. Just a typical day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you heard Ely’s [remix](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OK4WqyKjofw) yet? It’s a bop!

_ <ZombieCleo> Oh god... I’m glad that’s finally over _

_ <Xisuma> Is everybody okay? no buildings damaged? _

_ <falsesymmetry> everything seems fine here _

_ <cubfan135> I’m glad :) _

_ <Etho> hey uh... you should come check out the statue of hermity... _

_ <Xisuma> What’s wrong? _

_ <Etho> it looks like a meteor has crashed into it _

Mumbo turns his communicator off and slips it into his pocket. If he keeps reading the chat he's going to be late for work!

He walks up to the mirror, checking his tie and mustache again. Today is a big day; it is the day of Sahara’s meeting with ConCorp. The future of his business is on the line. The whole economy on the server could undergo a massive change! Mumbo feels both nervous and excited just thinking about all the possibilities, but he takes a deep breath to steady himself.

He grabs his suit jacket, swinging it on, and steps into his elevator. As he descends, he can feel his communicator buzzing in his pocket. Someone’s calling him. Quickly, Mumbo picks up.

_“Mumbo?”_

“Oh, hey Iskall. Is everything alright?”

_“Yeah, yeah. Just- Scar called me just now. They’re not going to make it to the meeting.”_

“What..?! But-”

_“But they’re sending a representative for ConCorp! Things should go just as planned! Thought I should let you know beforehand.”_

“I... Okay, thank you for telling me, Iskall.”

_“Don’t worry about it, okay? Your pitch will go great, I believe in you.”_

Mumbo sighs. “I just... It feels like there’s too much riding on this, you know?”

_“I know, dude, I know. But it’ll be okay. See you soon?”_

“I’m on my way. No elytra though, not going to mess up my freshly ironed suit!” Mumbo chuckles and Iskall breaks out into that wonderfully contagious laugh of his.

_“Alright. Bye!”_

The screen turns black again. Mumbo catches a glimpse of the chat, _‘-I haven’t been able to contact him but-’,_ he doesn’t pay attention to it, though. _63 unread messages_ , no thank you. Mumbo’s got way more important things to worry himself about.

Like his pitch, for example. His pitch about new redstone technology which both Sahara and ConCorp could profit from massively. Mumbo double-checks his pocket, making sure that all his notes were still in there. He knows how nervous he can get when talking in front of groups of people, and the lead-up to that moment was even worse. His mind always starts racing and he doesn't know how to make sense of it all anymore.  
Mumbo walks up to where the ocean meets the bottom of his base. He deploys a boat, and rows all the way to the shopping district. It’s slow, but the repetitive motions do calm his racing thoughts quite a bit.

He arrives on solid land a few minutes later. As he walks past all the smaller shops in the district, he can’t help but notice a... theme... He passes several hermits, who seem to be humming and... dancing? Zedaph waves at him, twirls and leaps in the air, before going on his way. “Er... hi..?” Mumbo stops in his tracks for a bit, but then shakes his head. Zedaph was always a little... out there, he supposed.

Then he passes Jevin, who has an unusual spring in his step. He’s humming the same tune as he swings his arms in the air, a bright smile on his face. This strikes Mumbo as odd, because, well... When has Jevin ever danced before? It’s nothing to be concerned about, however, right?

Mumbo catches xB as he’s working on a new shop, he presumes. He, too, is swaying his hips and singing that same tune. He juggles all kinds of building materials as he’s placing them down seemingly haphazardly. When he turns around and notices Mumbo staring, he skips straight towards him, a big grin plastered on his face. Alarmed, Mumbo half-runs away. This was definitely not normal hermit behaviour.

He looks back and doesn’t notice Etho until he bumps into him. The man turns around with a concerned look underneath his mask.

“Etho! I’m so sorry,” Mumbo pants, catching his breath. “I just saw all these people... _dancing..._ and- Did you notice anything weird? xB came after me with this creepy smile on his face and- And they’re all humming this _tune_ like-”

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa...𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

“Yes! Yes exactly! That tune, do you know anything about-”

Etho pulls down his mask, and his concerned look turns into a smile.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 It was at this moment that Mumbo started to panic. Suddenly, the jarring intro caught him off guard𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

“What..?”

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba na, na na na na... Na na na na na…𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

“What’s going on?”

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba na, na na na na... Na na na na…𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

Etho smiles at him and grabs him by his hand. _“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Listen to my jabbering, about the resource gathering, 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

“Excuse me?”

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 My neverending stammering, as I’m resource gathering 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

Mumbo pulls his hand away. He turns to walk away but Etho pulls him back, twirling Mumbo in his arms.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Gone is Beef’s a Mothering, he’s no longer smothering, it’s just me mastering my laddering, as I’m resource gathering 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

Mumbo notices that more hermits join them, somehow all knowing the same lyrics and choreography. He sees Zedaph, xB and Jevin. Even Wels shows up, smiling and dancing. They all join Etho in his song.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba na, na na na na... Na na na na na…𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

“What’s happening? I’m very confused and concerned by all of this-”  
Etho skips around Mumbo in a circle, and continues singing with a smile on his face.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba na, na na na na... Na na na na…𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

“I’d like to go, please...” Etho spins Mumbo around again, and suddenly he’s in the middle of all the singing hermits as they all point at him. Are they expecting him to... sing? But when he keeps his mouth shut Etho takes over again.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Yep yep, that is the story of how we ended up up in this district, incredible, right? 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

Mumbo shakes his head, attempting to get away, to get back to Sahara already. xB grabs him by his shoulders and keeps him in place.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 What a journey it’s been to get to this point, amazing 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

The chorus of hermits sing a collective _“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Aww yeah! 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

“I- er... I should get... going, now...” Mumbo walks backwards, but is grabbed by Zedaph, who pulls him back into the circle of singing and dancing hermits.

“No no no please don’t-”

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba na, na na na na... Na na na na na…𝅘𝅥𝅮”_ The hermits press up to his sides, pushing him down on the ground. They start singing in canon, sending chills down Mumbo’s spine. Mumbo attempts to crawl away as they seem distracted, but they start circling him, clapping in their hands as the song continues.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba na, na na na na... Na na na na…𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

Finally Mumbo breaks through the circle. Etho and his chorus of hermits seem lost in their song. They start another verse, and Mumbo grabs his chance, quickly running away, hiding behind the first building he sees.

“Okay... okay... okay...” He peeks around the corner, but they don’t seem to have noticed him yet. Mumbo catches his breath and combs a hand through his hair. Before they get a chance to go after him, Mumbo sneaks away. Back to Sahara. Back to a normal day at work. Back to redstone and pitch meetings and banter with Iskall as they try to work out the countless kinks in the system.

“Goodness me, okay...” He sighs. _What the hell just happened?_ Mumbo’s at a loss for words. The hermits were... They were dancing. And singing. Did they practice this? When was this decided? He doesn’t recall anything of the sorts being mentioned in the monthly meetings with everybody.

Mumbo chuckles at the absurdity of what just transpired. It was just a silly little song. They were just having fun, and he was _scared_ of them! He laughs at himself, realizing how funny it must have looked to anyone else. A frightened man in a suit, surrounded by people who were singing a happy song for him. Yeah, no, Mumbo definitely may have been overreacting a bit. 

He enters Sahara through the customer’s entrance, sighing in relief as he couldn’t hear any catchy tunes or humming or whistling hermits. Today was going to be _fine._ Nothing weird was going on.

“Okay...” Mumbo takes a deep breath, both calming himself down and psyching himself up. “Time to get ready for my pitch.”


	3. Some kind of Canadian holiday

“Okay... okay...” Mumbo mutters to himself as he enters the staff room. He’s still not over the fact that he got _scared_ by a bunch of _singing hermits._ How ridiculous! Mumbo chuckles at himself. Whether he truly thinks it's ridiculous or if he’s still scared he can’t quite tell. When Mumbo looks up he notices Iskall talking to Ren over at the coffee machine.

“Hey Mumbo!” Ren smiles at him. “Morning!”

“Hey guys.” Mumbo nods back. He’s hesitant to tell them about what he just experienced, but he has to share it with _someone._

“So er... “ He begins. “Is today some kind of... I don’t know, Canadian holiday or something?” Ren looks at him confused.

Mumbo shrugs. “Like er... ‘International Music Day’ or...”

Ren shakes his head. “...Not that I know of. Why?”

“Cause I just-” Mumbo shakes his head, laughing. “I just saw some people... dancing. And singing. Like they were in a, in a musical.” Ren looks even more concerned, but for Mumbo’s sanity rather than the musical thing.

“I’m serious! Etho was out there, and so were Zedaph, and xB, who franky creeped me the hell out. And then Wels and Jevin joined them as well? They were all singing the same song, doing a choreographed number like a...”

“Like a flash mob?” Ren asks.

Mumbo nods. “Yeah... Yeah, I, I guess it was like that. I mean, what else could it have been, right?”

“Did you get a video of it?” 

Mumbo shakes his head. He honestly didn’t have time to think about filming it whilst he was caught up in the middle of that... that strange occurrence.  
“...No.” Ren sighs and shakes his head at Mumbo’s answer. “Naww, I wanted to see... “ He pouts.

“I just have a bad feeling about this. Hey, Iskall?” Iskall looks up at Mumbo. He was staring into his cup like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Huh?”

“Did you notice anything strange?”

“What? No, I- Sorry.” He shakes his head. “It’s silly. It’s just... It’s Stress.”

“StressMonster?” Iskall nods. 

“It’s funny you mention singing, cause, well... I went back to my base this morning. My ice base, through the Nether tunnels to get my suit, you see? And while I was there, I could hear Stress. I could hear her... singing.” Mumbo’s eyes widen.

“And, I know this is a weird thing to realize, since... Stress is not a _bad_ singer, per se. You know her little theme song, right?” Ren and Mumbo both nod.

“She’s not bad, just... a little flat.” Iskall takes a deep breath. “But not this morning. Today... She sounded absolutely angelic... And I don’t know why, but, it _scared_ me. It just didn’t sound like Stress, you know?” Iskall chuckles dryly. “Man, I sound so out of it, I’m probably just imagining things.”

Mumbo puts his hand on Iskall’s shoulder, concerned. “Iskall? Do you remember _what_ Stress was singing?”

Iskall looks up at him. “Um, it was just a silly little tune, something like _‘Ba ra, ba-’_ ”

“ _-ra pa pa’_?” Mumbo finishes. He and Iskall look at each other with big eyes.

Then, the loud buzzing from Iskall’s communicator shakes the two from their tense little moment. Ren laughs at their reactions. 

“Oh crap, it’s Scar. It took him a little longer to get ConCorp’s representative ready. He should be here soon, though.”

“Do we know what happened for them to have to send someone else?” Ren asks.

“Something with Cub. I think he may have caught something. Anyway, we should be getting ready too, no?” Iskall chugs his coffee back in one go.  
“Have either of you seen Grian around?” Mumbo shakes his head. “Crap... He knows he’s supposed to be here, this is a big moment for Sahara!” Iskall starts making his way to the meeting room.

“I’m going to get everything ready for the pitch. Mumbo, could you go and get Grian?”

“Why me?”

“You walk over to his shop every day! I bet he’s still over there out of habit.”

Mumbo gulps. “In the shopping district?”

“Of course! He’s not replying to my messages. Come on, it’s only a short walk, I bet Biffa will be here any minute now. Come on, off you go.” Iskall pushes him towards the exit, despite Mumbo’s weak attempt at protest.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go get him. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Mumbo says, mostly to himself.

“Thanks, MJ. Ren, could you help me with these godawful chairs?”

“Coming!” Iskall and Ren walk off, leaving Mumbo in front of the main entrance. Alone.

He stares at the world outside. Out there were Etho, and xB... He wonders if they’re still singing that same song. Mumbo just hopes to god that it’s all blown over by now. It’s silly to be scared of things like this, right? But then again... Iskall seemed quite frightened at Stress’ actions, as well.

He shakes his head. _Get a grip, Mumbo!_ He just has to go and get Grian, and then get back. Maybe he could even pick up some gravel, work in the concrete maker for a bit after his pitch to calm his nerves. There was something about those automatic machines that allowed him to completely relax. Working on autopilot, not having to worry about the durability of his tools... 

Yes. He was going to get some gravel, and then Grian. And then he’d give his presentation and it was going to go well and no singing hermits were going to scare him any more today! No, sir!

But on his way there, as he gets closer to the center of the shopping district, he can hear singing. He can even hear... is that _note blocks?_ When in the world did they have time to install those? Mumbo sneaks around the surrounding buildings, trying to catch a glimpse at the happenings whilst simultaneously trying to stay hidden. He doesn’t like this. He doesn’t like this one bit.

If he listens closely he can make out what they’re singing.

 _“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Fan, fan, lever, slab 𝅘𝅥𝅮”  
_ _“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Jump, jump, flip, jump jump jump 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

Well, it’s more like a chanting of random words? To a rhythm? This was even freakier than before.

 _“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Boop boop boop 𝅘𝅥𝅮”  
_ _“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Boop boop boop boop 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

Mumbo peeks around the corner of a shop. Now there’s even _more_ hermits than before! xB, Zedaph, even Python... They’re all singing and building at the same time. Mumbo stares in awe as they all work in perfect rhythm, passing around materials, placing them on the beat, flicking levers at the same time, adding to the melody.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Slab, slab, Etho slab 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

For a second Mumbo thinks he’s spotted, and he quickly crouches down behind a tree, holding his breath.

But nobody seems to come for him, they just continue singing and building.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Fan, fan, lever, slab 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

Mumbo works up the courage to get a move on. He tosses a careful look towards the, frankly, quite ominous flash mob in the middle of the shopping district, and runs from shop to shop.

 _“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Boop boop boop 𝅘𝅥𝅮”  
_ _“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Boop boop boop boop 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

Their haunting melody keeps repeating in his head. And their voices too, they- They don’t sound like they used to. They sound too perfect. Almost auto-tuned. It’s like they’re... It’s like their voice boxes have been replaced by something else.

Mumbo slaps himself in the face. What a ridiculous thought! What a joke! He shakes his head, trying to calm himself down. _Come on, Mumbo, this isn’t real, this isn’t happening._ He slumps down against the back of whatever shop it is that he managed to hide behind.

Okay. Good. Now, why are they all singing? They can’t possibly have learned that in the span of... a day, right? No, this had to be a dream. Or a hallucination? But... But Iskall said he heard Stress sing that same song... 

No. He can’t take it. It must be from all the stress he’s had at work recently. Just regular old stress and nerves from his upcoming presentation. That's all. Working with redstone in the conditions they had to deal with over at Sahara was bound to have an effect on his mental health eventually. He guesses that the time has finally come for him to break down.  
Mumbo needs to... he needs to relax. Take his mind off of things. He needs some gravel! Using the concrete machine for even just five minutes was bound to reset his system! That’s it!

With newfound energy Mumbo gets up, straightens his jacket, and quickly fixes his tie. He peeks around the corner of the building, and when the coast seems clear, he speeds on over to Grian’s cart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [𝅘𝅥𝅮 And I don’t have fire 𝅘𝅥𝅮](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PAWSeT2UFN8)


	4. Tip for a song

Grian's shop couldn’t come into view fast enough. When he arrives it looks rather empty. Mumbo slams his hand on the side of the cart.

“Hello? Hello?!” 

No answer.

“Please, Grian, I just want a stack of gravel...”

Then, from behind the cart, Grian twirls into view, wearing a guinea pig onesie.

He begins to sing.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Mumbo Jumbo, Mumbo Jumbee bum... Mumbo Jumbo, playing on-𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

_“NOOOO!!!”_

Grian promptly stops.

“Not you too, Grian, please, god, stop singing!” Tears begin to stain Mumbo’s vision. Oh god, he’s gone mad, hasn’t he?

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Grian laughs uncomfortably, climbing back into his cart.

“What’ll it be today, mister Jumbo?”

Mumbo’s mouth falls open and he quickly wipes at his eyes. “Grian... you’re _talking_ to me... Like a normal person...”

Grian snorts at that. “Yeah, it’s just this new thing Xisuma came up with.” He gestures towards a sign that reads ‘Tip for a song!’. “He thought that if I sang, like, all the time, that I’d attract more customers.” Grian laughs, shaking his head.

Mumbo looks at him with wide eyes. Xisuma-? No. No, it’s okay. They’re okay. It’s just an innocent song, it’s _fine!_

“So, what are you up to?” It takes a moment for Mumbo to process Grian’s words. Right, the meeting. He came to get Grian for the meeting. Still, he can’t shake the feeling of _unease_ and _fear_ that’s gnawing at his nerves. Mumbo has to tell him. He’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t tell somebody.

“Grian... I think there is something terribly wrong with the server today.” 

“Tell me about it.” Grian rolls his eyes. “Did your farms cause everybody to lag again?”

Mumbo grabs grian by the collar of his onesie, pulling his face close. “Grian, listen to me. Okay?” The smaller hermit looks at him with concern in his eyes.

“I feel like there’s something... _sinister... infecting_ the server.”

“...Okay?”

“And I know this is going to sound crazy. And not very scary, but it _is_ scary, if you think about the implications.” Grian tries to shake Mumbo’s grip but he keeps holding on tightly.

_“Promise_ me you’ll think about the implications.”

“Okay, okay, I promise!”

“Good, good...” Mumbo sighs, finally letting go.

“Grian, I think the server is becoming... a _musical.”_ He says, keeping eye contact.

“Er, I need-”

“Don’t say anything!" He cuts him off. "Let it sink in.”

Grian looks increasingly more uncomfortable. “Okay-?”

“Okay!” Mumbo grabs his shoulders, pulling him close again. “Now! Are you frightened?” 

They stare at each other for a good few seconds before Grian tries to break away again. “Yeah, I think I’m starting to get a little frightened...”

“You should be! You-” Mumbo is startled by a familiar voice. A voice that usually exudes calmness and trust. But its unusual melodic tone sends chills down Mumbo’s spine.

“Hey Grian! I heard your guinea pig service was open for business?”

Grian shoots up from Mumbo’s grip, casting him another concerned glance before turning to face Xisuma.

“It sure is!” He says. “Do you need something tested?” Grian hops out of the cart and walks up to the admin. Mumbo almost doesn't recognize him; he isn't wearing his helmet like usual.

“I’ve got a little job for you.” Xisuma smiles. “But I see you’ll sing me a song if I tip? Is that correct?” His voice sounds... wrong. Too smooth.

“If you want, I can perform a little dance for you as well.” Grian smiles back. X has his diamonds out in a fraction of a second. “It’s a deal!”

Grian springs into action, jumping up and down, kicking up little dust clouds of sand and gravel in the process.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo, dooo...𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Mumbo watches as Grian starts to sing. A little off-key, but singing nonetheless. He swings his arms around, accidentally hitting himself in the face in the progress.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo, guinea pig dance! 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Xisuma watches, his mouth warped into a wide grin, but his eyes... Mumbo can’t say he’s seen Xisuma’s face without a helmet a lot, but his eyes definitely look _wrong._ Foul.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo, dooo... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Grian’s movements look choppy, as if he didn’t prepare for this at all. Nothing like what Mumbo saw this morning.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo, guinea pig dance! 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Dance, Grian! 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_ Xisuma begins to sing along as he takes in Grian’s little show. Providing a harmony that Mumbo nor Grian expected. Grian looks more and more uncomfortable under X’s gaze.

Grian’s voice fades and he stops his little dance. “Alright, that’s enough for today.” he huffs.

Xisuma’s smile doesn’t fade. It appears to grow bigger, even. He addresses Grian, who looks tired, wiping sweat off of his forehead. “That was great! But if I may add a few little things: I think the dance could really use some more jumping and some hand-action, y’know? Show off all those moves I know you can do!”

“Since when did _you_ become a dance expert?” Grian snorts. He catches his breath and leans onto the side of the cart. Xisuma shrugs.

“So... what is it we’re testing here?”

“It actually has to do with what we just discussed! It’ll help you with your singing and dancing.” Xisuma pulls out a bright blue potion from his inventory and hands it over.

Grian hesitantly accepts it, sloshing the liquid around. “Okay, well... how does it work?”

“You’ll soon find out.”

“That is pretty sus...” Grian raises one eyebrow, but opens the bottle anyway. A few blue particles escape into the air. With furrowed eyebrows Grian tilts the bottle, pouring some of the potion onto the floor. Thick, blue goo slobbers out.

“Gross.” Grian scrunches up his nose. “I don’t know about this, X... I’m not about to put my own health on the line, you know?”

“That’s a shame...” He says. “I was going to pay you double, too.”

“Double?!” A new voice enters the conversation. Mumbo sees VintageBeef walk up to the two of them.

“What’s this quarrel about then, huh?” He sounds normal, _thank god._

“X-i-sooma here wants me to drink this-” Grian holds up the potion. “But I ain’t doing it, sir. No way!”

“Oh. For how much?” Beef asks.

Mumbo wants to stop him, but his voice won’t work. He tries to get his legs to move but it's like he’s stuck to the ground.  
He can’t even begin to think about getting close to Xisuma, he... everything about him feels off. The way he's insisting on Grian drinking that potion, the fact that it somehow has to do with the creepy singing and dancing... No, no, Mumbo couldn't be right about this. He didn't _want_ to be right about being scared of his fellow hermits!

“Twelve diamonds.” Xisuma says, raising his eyebrows.

“Twelve dia-?! I’ll do it!” Beef takes the bottle from Grian’s grip and chugs the entire thing down in one go. Mumbo gasps and braces himself for what’s about to happen. He doesn’t know what, and he isn't sure if he even wants to know. He peeks at the situation through his fingers.

Beef still stands, wiping some liquid from the corner of his mouth. He happily takes the diamonds that Xisuma is handing him. Grian has taken a few steps back, weary of the situation as well.

Nothing appears to happen.

But before Mumbo can speak up, Beef starts coughing. Softly at first, but then louder, more frantic, as if he can’t breathe at all. He heaves, clawing at his throat desperately. Xisuma watches the entire thing with a smile as Beef falls to the ground, scratching himself open. Blood pours down his neck, seeping into his clothes. 

With a horrifying, almost inhuman sound Beef collapses. Mumbo watches in horror as he stops moving, he can't pry his eyes away from the gruesome scene. Xisuma just- he just _killed_ Beef!

"Xisuma, what..?" Grian whispers, hands in his hair, he can't seem to find his words.

Beef is dead. Their own admin just _murdered_ him. Mumbo blinks away the tears that were forming in his eyes, trying his best to keep a clear mind. He looks at Beef. Blood is still pouring from his wounds, but... it's slowly turning blue..? The same color as... the potion he drank. Mumbo tries to make sense of it but he's shaken from his thoughts as Beef suddenly convulses, inhaling sharply before he gets up again. 

He has that same look in his eyes. That same fake smile plastered to his face.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo, dooo... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

They begin singing. Both Xisuma and Beef are singing. The same song Grian just performed, but more... polished... more refined. They sound amazing, but it chills Mumbo to the bone. This couldn’t be happening. Beef just... and Xisuma gave him-

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo, guinea pig dance! 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

He sees the two hermits closing in on Grian, who looks stuck to the ground in shock. Mumbo wills himself to move, to _get Grian_ and _get out of here._ They have to get out. The shopping district isn't safe anymore.  
Mumbo draws in a deep breath, and runs up to Grian, pushing his admin back.

He holds out his arms in front of the smaller hermit, shielding him from Xisuma who holds out another blue potion.

“He isn’t drinking that! Are you crazy?!” He yells.

Xisuma doesn’t respond, though. He and Beef just keep singing. The happy melody quickly turning darker and darker.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo, dooo... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Grian tugs and Mumbo’s suit. “They’re singing! Beef didn’t even hear my song! Wh- why are they both singing?!”

Mumbo turns around and grabs his shoulders. “We need to run, Grian. Don’t hold back, just run!” Grian nods at him, pulling him away just in time from Beef who, Mumbo can now see, tried to grab him.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Dance, Grian, dance! 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_ They sing.

Mumbo takes Grian's hand and starts running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [𝅘𝅥𝅮 Guinea pig dance! 𝅘𝅥𝅮](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ti1ckkIJDRM)


	5. Headbanging

Mumbo huffs and catches his breath. This was the fastest he’s ever run, for sure. He looks over at Grian, who is still wearing his guinea pig onesie. Man, that thing must be hot as hell. The poor guy couldn’t catch a break, could he?

“Hey G, are you okay?” Mumbo asks.

Grian looks up and gives him a thumbs up, but the grin on his face is definitely forced.

A solid minute passes, and Mumbo finally feels like he can breathe normally again.

“Okay. Okay, what the hell was that?!” Grian says.

“I told you it was scarier than it sounds!”

“You were right... I didn’t think about the implications...” Grian’s eyes go wide. “My god, I didn’t think about them!”

Mumbo grabs Grian’s hands. “Shhh, it’s alright. We’ll be okay, I promise.” Grian looks up at him. 

“Come on, let’s go find Iskall and the others. And maybe something proper for you to wear.”

“Yeah... I think my guinea pig days are definitely over.” Grian chuckles, somehow managing to make Mumbo laugh as well. Tension is lifted from the air as the two hermits laugh their nerves off, making their way over to the elevator.

They get up to the second floor and go out into the private plaza. It’s awfully quiet. Mumbo would have expected to see or at least _hear_ Iskall from out here. The guy can’t contain his laughter, especially when he’s nervous. Which, given the situation of their upcoming meeting, would be right now. But he can’t hear a thing. 

No radio. No music. But also no Iskall.

Mumbo pulls Grian closer towards him, nerves getting the better of him again.

Grian stops the two of them right outside the employee entrance.

“I don’t trust this.” He says softly.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“This... _any_ of this.” He vaguely gestures around himself. “Whatever the hell is going on here. Xisuma is supposed to be able to fix it all and now he’s-”

A sudden banging from behind makes the both of them yelp.

“Grian! Mumbo! You’re _okay!”_ Ren all but jumps up out of one of the trash cans, tackling the onesie-clad hermit into a tight hug.

“Ren, what the hell?! You scared the crap out of us!” Mumbo has his hand on his chest, his heart is beating out of control.

“Well how am I supposed to pop up out of a trash can and not scare the crap out of you?” He retorts.

“I don’t know... Give us a warning, or-”

Another loud noise sounds and Mumbo lets out another manly yelp. He turns around. “Biffa?!”

“Sorry, I tried to warn you...”

“Ren? Biffa? What are you guys doing here?” Grian asks, wrangling himself from Ren’s hug.

“Oh, well, they’re here for the meeting with ConCorp-”

“No, what are they doing in the _trash?”_

“We’re hiding.” Iskall jumps out, sending Mumbo screaming again. “Shhh! Shut up!” He whispers. He looks from Grian to Mumbo with wide eyes, and his hands are shaking. Iskall looks quite... on edge.

“Jesus, guys. Will you _please_ tell me what the hell is going on over here?” Grian crosses his arms.

Iskall runs a hand through his hair and gulps. “Well... Biffa was supposed to be ConCorp’s representative for the meeting today. The meeting you forgot about, might I add. Something happened to Cub so he and Scar couldn’t come. But shortly Biffa came through the portal, ready to discuss everything, Cub showed up as well.”

“...And?”

“He was... singing.” Ren says, his voice a lot softer than usual. “I know I made light of it earlier, Mumbo. I’m so sorry I didn’t take you seriously! I laughed at first but it... it was _scary._ You _have_ to believe me...”

“No no no Ren, I believe you. We were actually just-”

“A-and then Scar showed up too, and... He had a huge hole in his stomach, like- like he’d been stabbed or something. And- he definitely looked like he should be dead, but- He was singing and dancing like never before...”

Ren shudders, and Iskall puts his hand on his shoulder.

“When they came for us we ran. They’re still up there somewhere.” Iskall says, motioning towards the balcony on the first floor.

The group is quiet for what feels like a couple minutes. Now that they’ve all experienced being freaked out by singing hermits Mumbo feels like there’s a certain mutual understanding between the five of them. Slowly Mumbo’s heartbeat returns to its normal speed again.

Grian finally breaks the silence. “So... I take it the meeting is cancelled, then?”

Iskall nods, a half-smile on his face. “I don’t know what to do, now. We can’t use the meeting room, we can’t even get back inside. The future of the shopping district and hermitcraft’s economy was supposed to be settled today but now...” Iskall shakes his head. Mumbo knows how he feels. They’ve been working towards this trade deal for so long, and now it’s all just. Gone. It's like all their hard work amounts to nothing in the end.

Though, he can’t help but feel the tiniest bit relieved that he doesn’t have to hold his pitch anymore. Hey, he’ll take all the positivity he can get.

“It’s okay, though.” Biffa perks up. “I messaged Xisuma to come here, he can fix this.”

Wait.

_Xisuma-!?_

“You did _what?”_ Mumbo says with a growl that even surprises himself.

Biffa looks taken aback. “I... I sent him our coordinates, to get us out of here. He’s our admin, he _must_ know what to do, right?” Mumbo feels a strange mix of anger and panic rising in his stomach.

The others look at him expectantly.

“...Did I do wrong?”

Mumbo grabs the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his composure. “No, Biffa, you- You couldn’t have known. Grian and I just came from the shopping district. Whatever it is that got Cub and Etho and everybody else... it also got Xisuma.”

Biffa gasps softly.

“In that case we better get out of here before-” Iskall suddenly stops, looking in the distance.

Mumbo follows his gaze, and he can clearly see their admin, walking towards them with a strange pace.

Walking to a nonexistent beat.

“Shit.”

There’s nowhere for them to go. Behind them Cub and Scar are supposedly haunting the halls of Sahara, and approaching them from the front is Xisuma. Not all of them are equipped with elytras, either. What are they supposed to do?

Xisuma walks up to them. He’s alone.

_“Hello everyone.”_

Biffa takes a step forward, it looks like he’s trying to coax X to follow him so the others can perhaps find a way to escape. He has a hand behind his head. “Hey, Xisuma... I didn’t think you’d show up, honestly.”

Xisuma doesn’t say anything. Mumbo tries to usher everybody away from the trash cans.

“X? Sorry to make you come all the way over here. It... er... it seems like we’ve already solved our problem over here. We’re good.” Biffa says.

_“That’s okay, gentlemen. Why don’t we continue the meeting over a nice cup of tea?”_

“How do you-” Iskall’s voice is cut off as Xisuma starts singing. 

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 A nice cup of tea, cup, cup, of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

He keeps repeating the same words over and over again, strangely hypnotic.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 A cup of tea, cup, cup, of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Xisuma stumbles forwards, his gaze trained on whoever seems to be nearest. Biffa yelps and runs back towards the trash cans. The hermits all scramble, running away, but Iskall gets his foot stuck in one of the bins, tripping and falling to the ground. Xisuma lurches closer and closer.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 A cup of tea, cup, cup, of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Mumbo tenses up as he watches. X pulls out a potion, the same blue one from just a while ago.

He has to save Iskall. He can’t let him get caught up in this mess. 

Mumbo charges forwards, tackling Xisuma to the ground. He takes an elbow to the ribs as he lands half on top of the infected man. The potion he was holding slips from his grip and rolls a few blocks away.

Ren runs up to the action, freeing Iskall from the bins and pulling him away. Xisuma pushes Mumbo off of him with an unexpected strength, and Mumbo winces as the air is knocked out of him. He definitely bruised something.

 _“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Oh my days 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_ Xisuma says to the beat, and then continues singing.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 A nice cup of tea, cup, cup, of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

Mumbo scrambles to get up, but doesn’t have time to register what’s going on as Grian tackles him to the ground again. Something flies over their heads and explodes into shards of glass and blue goo.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 A cup of tea, cup, cup, of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

“Grian?! What-!” Grian points at Xisuma, who pulls out another splash potion.

“We have to get out of here!” He says, pulling Mumbo to his feet. They narrowly avoid another potion and duck behind the trash cans.

Xisuma appears to scan the area, seemingly looking for a target. He keeps stumbling forwards, very... very un-human-like. Like he’s being controlled by someone. Or some _thing._

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 A cup of tea, cup, cup, of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

They watch as Biffa walks up to X, his hands up, nonthreatening. 

“Xisuma? Xisuma, can you hear me? It’s me, Biffa. Please, stop acting like this, you’re scaring us. You’re scaring _me.”_

Something seems to change in Xisuma’s eyes for a fraction of a second. His smile drops and he lowers the splash potion in his hand.

 _“...Biffa?”_ He almost whispers.

“Xisuma! I-”

The same unnatural grin returns to Xisuma’s face, and Biffa narrowly dodges the potion which is thrown at him. Xisuma continues singing, chasing Biffa as everybody tries to get away from him, dodging potions left and right.

Biffa slips over some of the blue goo, though, and he drops to the floor. Xisuma is above him in seconds, uncorking one of his potions. Mumbo can only watch, stuck to the ground by his nerves once again.

Iskall, however, runs up behind him, making the most of Xisuma’s distraction. He whacks him on the back of his head with the lid of one of the trash cans. Blue liquid splatters everywhere. 

Xisuma drops to the floor.

Mumbo’s breath hitches in his throat. He doesn’t realize he’s squeezing Grian’s hand in his until the smaller hermit tries to loosen his grip. Mumbo quickly lets go and shakes his head, taking in the situation. Xisuma is on the floor, Biffa is on his knees next to him. The others walk up behind him, hesitant to get close. Grian pulls Mumbo to his feet.

Ren gasps, and when Mumbo gets closer he sees why.

Xisuma’s head is split open.

“I- Iskall... What have you done?!” Biffa exclaims.

“Well I had to do _something!_ You’re welcome for saving your life, by the way!”

“His fucking _head_ is open!” Biffa sneers back. Mumbo recoils at the sudden aggression in his voice.

The scene is too gory for him to really take a closer look, but he has enough stomach to make out the blue goo that seeps from the wound. 

Biffa’s gaze follows the trail of blue... blood? Slime? Mumbo doesn’t know what it is exactly. He watches through half-closed eyes as Biffa picks up a chunk of flesh, retching as he recognizes what it is. Or what it is supposed to be.

Biffa holds it up for everybody to see, his hands shaking. “His- his _brain_ fell out!”

“Well, put it back, then!” Ren yells, feeding off the tension.

“I don’t know how, I’m not a doctor!”

“Biffa, look- That’s not his brain, it’s _blue!”_ Iskall yells back.

“Well how do _you_ know, you’re not a doctor either!”

Iskall groans loudly in frustration.

Biffa seems to have entered a truly panicked state, he mutters to himself and his eyes go hazy with tears. Ren, Iskall, Grian, and Mumbo all look at each other, confused. They need to get out of here, that much they all know. If they stay here any longer, Cub and Scar would find them, if they haven’t heard all the commotion already.

“He needs a doctor, he needs potions of healing and strength, we need to get to the brewery... There’s a potion shop nearby, right? Does anybody have any potions? He needs potions, he needs a doctor...”

“Biffa?” Grian crouches down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Biffa, startled, looks up.

“Listen, we have to get out of here, okay? The shopping district isn’t safe anymore. The brewery is _in_ the shopping district. We can’t go there.”

Tears begin to roll down Biffa’s cheeks. “But he needs _help,_ he needs potions, I don’t have anything in my inventory... We can’t just leave him here we can’t do anything- God, why are there no doctors on this server nobody prepared me for any of this oh god...”

Ren perks up at his words. “A doctor, you say?”

“Do you know one?”

“Well, no, but... I know _Doc._ He’s kind of like a doctor, right..?” Iskall nods, giving him two thumbs up.

“Yes! He’s always working on these crazy experiments,” Grian adds. “he’s bound to know _something_ about biology!”

“Yes. _Right!_ I bet he’s in his crazy bunker over at Area 77! That thing is like a... like a doomsday survival bunker! There’s a whole lab underground and everything, his whole base is like a panic room!”

“Are you sure he’ll let us in?” Mumbo asks.

“We worked together on the Stock Exchange. He’ll let us in, I promise.” Ren nods.

“Well, in any case, we better get there quickly.” Iskall says, holding out his communicator. “Seems like New New Hermitville isn’t safe anymore, either.”

Mumbo pulls out his own communicator to watch the latest developments in the main chat.

_ <Keralis1> ummm... bubbles is acting a little... strange? _

_ <ZombieCleo> Is he singing, too? _

_ <Stressmonster101> That sounds nice! Is he any good? _

_ <Keralis1> yeah... that’s the strange part _

_ <Keralis1> who else is singing? _

_ <ZombieCleo> Joe, Wels... many others in the shopping district as well. Don’t get close to him, Keralis _

_ <Keralis1> ? _

_ <ZombieCleo> It’s not safe. Do you have somewhere to hide? Don’t say your coords in chat! _

_ <Keralis1> yeah i’ve got a place. stay safe, cleo! _

_ <ZombieCleo> You too, man. _

Mumbo gulps. They better get going. Now.

“Where’s the nearest portal?” He says.

“Through the Stock Exchange Garden. It’s not far, come on!” Ren motions for everybody to get a move on.

“Help me with... him. Please.” Biffa has his arm under one of Xisuma’s arms, and Mumbo goes to take his other side. However gory the scene may be, Xisuma is still his admin. If there’s any chance that Doc can help them, revert all of this back to normal, he’s willing to take it.

Still, he’s careful not to get any blue goo on his suit. Thank god his inventory isn’t full of blocks of gold, at least. Xisuma is practically dead weight.

Ren leads the way and the group of 5 hermits (and one... whatever Xisuma was), quickly make their way to the Nether portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [𝅘𝅥𝅮 Oh my days... 𝅘𝅥𝅮](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6f6DF1ad1Is)
> 
> Also, Doc is 100% a doctor. It all works Way Too Well :)


	6. Bunker? I hardly know her!

“Doc, you may want to take a look at this.” Captain Angry Eyes motions for him to come over. Doc looks up from his screens. The Captain has the main chat opened up.

_ <hypnotizd> has anyone seen Beef? i lost track of him a while ago _

_ <impulseSV> no, sorry _

_ <falsesymmetry> Wasn’t he heading towards the shopping district? _

_ <MumboJumbo> crap!! _

_ <Tinfoilchef> Oh! I think I see him. _

_ <Tinfoilchef> He just showed up in my mine? _

_ <MumboJumbo> TFC get away from him!! _

_ <Grian> he’s dangerous! _

_ <Tinfoilchef> What do you mean? He looks okay. _

_ <Keralis1> is he singing? please tell me he isnt singing _

_ <Tinfoilchef> No, it’s okay, he stopped. _

_ <MumboJumbo> there’s something going on up there, TFC, you need to get out of there _

_ <impulseSV> tfc? _

_ <ZombieCleo> Are you okay?? _

_ <VintageBeef> :) _

“It seems that New New Hermitville has been contaminated as well.” The Captain says.

“Hmm...” Doc murmurs. “It’s spreading faster than we theorized... We need to get that meteor. We need to get it now before any more hermits fall prey to this entity.” The Captain nods, getting up from his chair. He starts preparing to go outside whilst Doc continues to monitor the chat.

_ <falsesymmetry> Where is xisuma? I can't get a hold of him_

_ <hypnotizd> is he still okay? _

_ <Grian> ... _

_ <Grian> he... I think he’s infected, too _

_ <falsesymmetry> Infected with what? What the hell is going on??? _

_ <Grian> we don’t know yet. we’re on our way to get answers _

_ <ZombieCleo> Where are you guys now? I’m coming with. _

_ <Iskall85> Nether hub. Can’t miss us! _

_ <ZombieCleo> Be wary of Joe, he’s roaming the tunnels. _

_ <Grian> oh no _

_ <ZombieCleo> I have an idea though. I’ll message you privately_

_< ZombieCleo> You never know if they're reading this_

_ <ZombieCleo> And to everybody else: STAY INSIDE. Don’t let anyone in and DON’T BLOODY GO TO THE SHOPPING DISTRICT!!! _

  
“Looks like our admin is no help.” Doc says, turning to his co-worker who is checking his weapons and adjusting his hat.

“It’s up to us now, Captain.” He nods. The Captain loads his crossbow with an explosive rocket. “It’s always been up to us, Doc.” He salutes him, and leaves the Watchtower.

Doc sighs and leans back in his chair. This was it. The moment he’s been preparing for all this time.

A few minutes later the buzzer of the front gate shakes him from nearly dozing off.

He presses the intercom. “Who is it?”

The voice sounds distorted through the intercom. “Doc!”

“Don’t lie to me, whoever you are. _I’m_ Doc!”

“No, Doc. It’s me, Ren. The entire server’s gone crazy, we didn’t know where else to go.”

“Ren..? Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Doc switches the view of one of the screens to the camera at the front gate. Indeed, Ren’s here, and so are Iskall and Cleo. And is that Grian? Biffa and Mumbo are there as well, they’re carrying somebody. Oh well. The more the merrier.

“Hold on, I’ll let you guys in.” Doc flicks the switch that opens the main gates.

“Come to the first building that you see. Make sure you’re not being followed.”

“Thanks, Doc!”

The intercom shuts off, and mere moments later Ren and the others pour into the main base. Doc shuts off any screens containing sensitive information, and makes his way downstairs.

“Doc, thank god!” Ren runs up to him, tackling him into a hug. “Listen, this is going to sound crazy, but everyone is-”

“Singing? And dancing?” Doc interrupts him. “They want you to join them and once they get you you’re a part of it. Right?”

“...Yeah, how did you know?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified information, my hippie friend.”

“Does this have something to do with all those weird experiments in the basement?” Grian asks.

“Maybe, maybe not.” It's not like Doc can just spill all his self-appointed government secrets now, can he?

“Didn’t you just read the chat? Shit’s going down in there.” Cleo says. Doc shakes his head.

“So you knew ahead of time that the server would turn into a musical?”

“You’d better believe it.”

“Alright...” The hermits all look at Ren as if to say, _‘What in the world have we gotten themselves into?’_

“Wait,” Biffa says. “so that’s what’s wrong with Xisuma? He's a part of a musical?

Doc’s eyes widen and he turns around. He just now notices that the person they were carrying is their one and only, unconscious, admin. 

“Don’t tell me you brought one of them here!” He quickly pulls out his trident, aiming it straight at the man. The others yelp in surprise.

“Dammit! We should have left him at Sahara!” Iskall blurts out. 

“How can you say that about your admin?! You’re a monster!” Biffa yells.

“No, _he’s_ a monster!” Iskall yells back.

“Alright everybody, calm down!” Doc gestures around with his trident. “He’s here now. We might as well make the most of it.” The hermits look at him expectantly.

“Cuff him to a chair and make sure he’s secure, there’s some leads in the chest over there. There’s no telling what would happen if he were awake and loose.”

Cleo and Iskall quickly get into action. Once Doc deems it safe enough, he puts his trident away again. 

“I’ve been preparing for this day since the beginning of this season. And now the answers are right in front of me...” Doc approaches Xisuma, he almost can't hide his excitement. He's been planning on capturing one of the infected hermits, but now they brought one right to him.  
Doc wastes no time and sticks his metal hand into the wound on his head. He ignores the looks the people around him give him. Xisuma’s brain, his blood... it’s all _blue._ He pulls his hand out again, some blue goo still sticking to it.

“Now, Grian...” He holds out his hand. “What in the world does that look like to you?”

“Er... I don’t know. Some kind of... blue... shit?”

“EXACTLY!” Doc exclaims. He turns to the other hermits.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!”

No reaction.  
Doc coughs once and composes himself. “Anyway- I’ll tell you what in the world it looks like. Nothing.” The hermits all look at each other.

Doc wipes his hand on his lab coat.

“You all remember the meteor that crashed into the Statue of Hermity last night. I dare say it carried a deadly cargo... A contagious pathogen, of _cosmic_ origin.”

“Wait a second, Doc. You’re not talking about _aliens_ again, are you?” Ren says, scrunching up his nose.

“Why is that so hard to believe? After all you hippies did to break in and expose our secrets... you’ve come across some inexplicable things, haven't you? Glitches that couldn’t be explained through lag... Entities and mobs that weren’t behaving like they should... Now, as unbelievable as the outbreak may seem. The question is no longer _‘Can this be happening?’,_ but _‘How do we stop it?’”_

Doc can see it in their eyes and posture; they’re starting to understand how grave the situation is. Even Biffa, who seemed to be in denial, nodded along.

“Now, I’ve got to get this blue slime beneath a microscope to find out what makes these bastards tick.” Doc produces an empty bottle from his inventory, and scoops up some more goo from Xisuma’s head.

“Um... I’m sorry, Doc?” Mumbo asks.

“Yes, my friend?”

“This, er... this is just a _lot_ to take in, you know? Do you have anything to maybe take the edge off? Like a nice cup of tea, maybe?”

A smile appears on Doc’s face, and he puts his arm around Mumbo's shoulders.

“Mumbo, this is a highly secure military bunker for secrets from outer space and other strange anomalies. I’ve been preparing for an invasion like this ever since the beginning of our time in this world... You better believe we have tea.”

Doc motions for everybody to follow him. “You guys coming, too?” Everybody nods, except for Biffa, who gestures towards Xisuma. “...He would have loved a cup of tea...”

“It’s okay, Biffa. Keep an eye on him for me until I get back, won’t you?” 

Biffa nods, and the rest of the hermits follow Doc towards main bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bday boy here to tell you that I have finals soon, so I'll be even busier studying than before! I am going to try my hardest to stick to the 1 chapter per 2 days schedule, but don't be surprised if it takes a little longer for them to be posted. Chapters will keep coming out one way or another! Thank you for your understanding <3


	7. A nice cup of tea

“He said he had all the tea in the world!” Ren exclaims, looking through all the cupboards once again.

Mumbo and the others look up at him. They’re all seated comfortably in a lounge-like area in the bunker.

“How am I supposed to relax without any rooibos?!” He throws his arms in the air before draping himself dramatically over the bar.

“Jesus, Ren, it’s the end of the server and you want to make a fuss about the type of tea you’re having?” Iskall snaps back.

“Well if it’s as serious as that I figured something to remind me of home would do me good.” Ren says, agitated.

“Great. So when our singing zombie friends get you, you can whack ‘em in the face with a wet tea bag before they infect you with their nasty blue shit? Come on!”

“If you make _one_ more crack at me I am gonna... _do... something_ to you!” He yells at Iskall.

“Oh yeah Ren? What are you gonna do?”

“I am gonna... kick your... head!” He stammers, clearly not used to the high tension and emotions.

“Oh. My head?”

“-Yeah.”

“Not my ass?”

“...Yeah!”

“Alright then, let’s see it!” Iskall jumps up from his seat, beckoning for Ren to come close. “Kick my head! Come on, karate-champ, show me that roundhouse, show me the sweeping crane kick that your kung-fu master taught you.”

Mumbo jumps in between the two, holding his hands out. “Okay you two, calm down. Iskall, Ren’s not going to ‘kick you head’.”

“Why not?!” He snaps. “It’s the most vulnerable part of the body! That’s what _‘Sensei Tomato Yoshi’_ taught me.”

“Come on bro, don’t bring him into this-”

“Whatever.”

“Okay, so it was a dumb threat. Stop rubbing it in, I’m sure if Ren could do it over again, he’d say something like ‘ass’.”

“Nu-uh, uh-uh!” Iskall replies. “If you want to kill a mob what do you do? You go for its _head._ What is the trophy that we always keep? The _head._ Take the head off, and the whole thing goes down! That’s why in End Cities, we always go for the dragon’s... _head.”_ He swings his arm as if to chop Ren’s head clean off, but Ren swats his hand away.

“Ow, come on, dude!”

“Guys, stop it!” Mumbo yells. “This is supposed to relax us, not make us kill each other. I’ve never seen you two so tense.” He shoots a look at the both of them. Iskall grumbles under his breath, while Ren defeatedly sits down on a bar stool. He takes a tea bag and stirs it around in an empty cup.

Mumbo sits back down in his chair. He’s already had three cups of tea, so he isn’t too keen on preparing himself another one. He checks his inventory to see if he’s got anything to entertain himself with, and comes across a stack of notes in his suit pocket.  
The notes for the pitch he was supposed to give today.

Mumbo twirls the little cards around, fiddling with them for a minute. Shuffling them in and out of order.  
When he’s bored of that he begins to fold them into little airplanes, watching as each one of them crashes into the ground after flying only a few blocks away. Folding one after the other, until he’s out of paper.

He sees Grian pick one of the little airplanes up, fiddling the little thing in between his fingers. He’s sitting on the floor by his lonesome, and it looks like he finally got the chance to change out of his guinea pig suit.  
Mumbo decides to join him. 

“Hey, G.” He says as he drops down next to the other hermit. Grian sighs and acknowledges him with a nod. “Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, just... Thinking about why I came here.”

“What- what do you mean-?” Mumbo asks.

“I don’t mean to be rude, sorry. It’s just. This all reminds me of what happened in the past.”

“The past? Like, before Hermitcraft? Before this server?”

Grian nods. “It always ends, one way or another. I guess I just hoped that... this world wouldn’t. Somehow. I know it sounds silly.” He chuckles softly.

“I still have so many unfinished plans... I was going to build something in every single district, too.”

Grian fidgets with the little airplane.

“Not that it matters anymore...”

“Wait, you’re not saying that...” Mumbo trails off.

“...They’re talking about going to the next season early in the chat.” Grian says, nodding. “They want to leave this world, they want to leave... leave everything and everybody behind. I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“They want to leave the server? Who?”

“Those that are left, I guess? False, Impulse, Hypno...” Grian looks sad. Mumbo isn’t sure if he should press on or not. He decides to, anyway.

“Do you... have experience with that?” Hurt strikes Grian’s face, and Mumbo instantly regrets his choice, feeling guilty he even _thought_ to ask.

“I never did tell anyone, did I?” Grian laughs once, dryly. “I was forced to leave my old server.”

Mumbo stays silent, not wanting to push him any further than he’s already done. 

Grian continues, though. “I thought I had everything under control. We were all about to fight the Ender Dragon together, but then... some outside force interfered, and- I was ripped from the world I created. I never got a chance to even say _goodbye...”_ Tears well up in his eyes, and Mumbo carefully puts his arm around Grian’s shoulder.

“I finally felt at home here, I finally felt like I belonged, and now- It’s all going to be taken away again. This just reminds me of how it all ended that first time.”

Grian shifts to look at Mumbo, and he feels like he might cry himself, seeing at how vulnerable he looks. “I don’t want this to end, Mumbo. I don’t want to lose everything, _I don’t want to lose my friends again.”_

Mumbo pulls Grian into a proper hug, holding him as he sobs softly. He only lets go once Grian signals that he’s okay.

“There’s just so much that I still wanted to do! So much I still wanted to learn! I wanted to learn redstone so I could help out more over at Sahara... That was just starting to take off too, but now-”

Grian wipes at his eyes. “Now there’ll be nobody left to buy anything...”

“You don’t know that, Grian. Xisuma- Xisuma might not be himself right now, but who knows? Things could turn around for the better.”

Grian nods but it doesn’t look like he believes him. Mumbo isn’t sure he believes it himself, either.

“But if worse comes to worse...” He trails off. Grian looks up at him with question marks in his eyes.

“If we _do_ have to escape to season seven early... Maybe... _I_ can teach you redstone?” Grian looks up at him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You would?” He asks, slightly surprised.

“Of course! It’s the least I can-”

Mumbo is interrupted by the large doors slamming open. He looks up to see Biffa stumble inside. 

“Biffa-?” His heart stops when he sees Xisuma behind him. Walking freely. Why is he here? Why isn’t he still tied to his chair? Why isn’t he tied up?!

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Hello everyone 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_ Xisuma’s voice bounces off the walls. 

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Welcome back 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_ Biffa adds.

They enter the room and Mumbo quickly pulls himself and Grian to their feet.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 I could really go for a cup of tea, 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_ Biffa says, catching the attention of all the others in the room.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Can we get some 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Sips of tea, sips, sips, of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

They begin singing, finishing each other’s lines. Mumbo recognizes the song. It’s the same tune Xisuma was singing earlier that day, too.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 A nice cup, of tea, a cup, cup, of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Xisuma stays near the entrance, blocking their only escape, whilst Biffa stumbles forwards, lunging at whoever is closest to him.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 We got loads of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

It’s difficult to navigate around the room. The bar, the tables, and all the chairs only making things more difficult than they have to be. 

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 A cup of tea, cup, cup, of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Xisuma stumbles forwards too, he and Biffa close in on Ren who is trapped behind the bar in the middle of the room. He grabs a chair to try and defend himself, but Mumbo can see that he’s shaking.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Another sip, mmm, another sip of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Cleo gestures towards the entrance now that it’s free, but Mumbo can’t force himself to leave when Ren is about to be _converted_ by these- these _parasites._ He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. Mumbo tugs free from Grian’s grip and runs closer, only to be swept off his feet by Iskall, who darts past him.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 A cup of tea, cup, cup, of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Iskall yanks Ren out of the way, sending him stumbling into Mumbo’s arms. He catches him and urges him towards the exit.

Only now Iskall is...

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Doo, doo doo doo doo... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Xisuma uncharacteristically punches Iskall in his stomach, sending him doubling over in pain. Mumbo almost has himself composed again, ready to charge in and finally _do_ something, to _help,_ when a trident rushes past his head, straight into the back of Xisuma’s skull.

He sees it tear itself out of X’s skull, and flies back into Doc’s hand, sending quite some goo flying with it as well.

Biffa, upon seeing this, screams at an ear-piercing frequency, and Mumbo feels as if his brain is about to burst out of his head until the screaming suddenly stops.

Mumbo sees Doc’s trident, buried deep into the side of his head. The trident flies back, and Biffa drops to the ground with a thud.

Iskall quickly worms himself away from the two bodies on the floor. Xisuma’s head is now more blue flesh and slime than any actually recognizable features. The left side of Biffa’s face is torn open, blue blood oozing out of it. His eyes are glazed over, looking into the distance.

It’s creeping Mumbo out.

It’s creeping him out how quickly he stopped seeing them as his friends.

And it’s a gruesome sight. One that Mumbo doesn’t want to get accustomed to. Yet he can’t help himself from looking.

Ren finally breaks the silence. “You killed Biffa!”

“Wrong.” Doc replies.

“You impaled him!” Mumbo says in disbelief. 

“He was already dead.” 

The scientist looks pleased with his own joke. Nobody reacts to it, however, they all stare at the bodies of their two former friends.

Doc clears his throat. “The Biffa you knew and loved was gone the minute a note came out of his mouth. After examining that blue slime it didn’t take long for me to decipher that Xisuma was no longer human.”

Mumbo looks at Doc with wide eyes. He had a hunch, sure, but _no longer human..?_

“But... was he ever, really?” Cleo says. Doc turns towards her. “While it’s true that we might not ever know what he really was before... I can safely say that he was now a part of the alien brew... genetically reconstructed from the inside out.”

Mumbo shakes his head, this was all way too much to take in at once.

“They’re wearing our skin to fool us.” Doc says, addressing the entire group. “Which means any one of you could be one of _them.”_ He raises his trident, taking a pose ready to strike. Mumbo puts his hands up, and so do the others.

But Doc begins to laugh at their panic. Mumbo is feeling less and less confident in their decision to come to his bunker, if this was the treatment they were getting.

“That, of course, would be impossible to hide, however. Believe me, I know an alien when I see one.”

Doc walks over to the two bodies. Their two former friends.

“As their numbers grow they become more bold, and as we’ve seen... more violent.” He prods Biffa’s body with his trident.

Just as Mumbo is starting to feel his blood pressure return to normal, someone’s communicator goes off, sending his heart racing again. 

Ren picks up.

“Hello?”

“Falsie! I’ve never been more glad to know that you’re living in Falsewell now, I-”

He stops abruptly. Mumbo turns to face him.

“No no no I’m not there, we’re in Doc’s bunker, you should come too-”

“What-? Back in the Fantasy District? Stuck in your base-?!”

“No, I’m sorry. I know you’re scared. Tango? He’s doing _what?”_

Doc looks up from his prodding, he doesn’t look happy.

“False, okay, listen to me. Get away from him, you understand? You’ve read the chat, right? You need to run, and you need to hide, okay? No, you stay there. I’m coming to you.”

“No, no, _don’t_ you say...”

Tears well up in his eyes, Ren tries to blink them away and keep his voice steady. 

“You’re going to be fine.”

“...I’ll see you soon.” He pockets his communicator again. Mumbo watches Ren with held breath.

“Get me some golden carrots, and two elytras.” He walks up to Doc with a certain determination.

“What’s happening, Ren?” Cleo asks.

“It’s False, she- she’s stuck in her base. I think Tango’s been infected... But she’s locked herself in, she doesn’t have access to an elytra or a portal.”

“And you’re gonna save her?” Iskall barks. “You’re going to swoop in and scoop her out of there without a scratch? Wake up, Ren. She’s already dea-”

_“-Don’t you dare, Iskall!”_ He bites back.

“Listen to yourself! You’re gonna get there and she’s gonna be _dead_ and you’re gonna die too. And that’s exactly what’s gonna happen when you try to go back through the nether. You’ve seen Joe, you’ve seen what they’re doing.” He meets Ren face to face.

Ren blinks away more tears. “Well what else am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t use the tunnels. Fly through the Nether itself.” Mumbo speaks up.

“Huh?”

“I used to do it all the time before the tunnel to the new area got constructed. We don’t need to use the main tunnel. We might not know how to deal with these- these aliens, but we’ve been dealing with ghasts for _ages,_ now. Ghasts we can handle.”

“Yes! There’s a couple of openings close to the portal that lead to the outside. You can slip out and cut hundreds of blocks of distance!” Grian adds.

“I’m sorry- That’s- that’s a lot of information.” Ren looks a little dazed.

“Don’t bother, he’s gonna get lost.” Iskall says, his voice a lot softer now.

“Honestly, what is your problem?” Cleo throws at him.

“My problem?! If he goes,” He gestures towards Ren. “he’s not gonna make it. The chances of him finding False, _let alone_ rescue her, are slim to zero! He’s never carried someone whilst flying an elytra. He’s terrible at combat, and he doesn’t even know the shortest route to the Fantasy District despite living there. If Ren goes, he’s going to die.”

Silence. Ren looks at his feet.

“I’m just saying what we all know is true.” Iskall turns towards him.

“Ren, if you go there alone, you’re not gonna make it back.”

Mumbo holds his breath.

“...Which is why I’m coming with you.” Iskall says softly. Ren looks up.

“What-?”

“I’m not going to let my best friend charge into battle alone.” He puts his hand on Ren’s shoulder. There’s tears in his eyes, too.

“You’d do that for me?” Iskall nods.

“Of _course._ I’m sorry I blew up on you, I- I don’t want to lose you, too.” 

Ren pulls Iskall into a hug, and the tension lifts from the room, making way for a little much-needed hope.

“Okay, okay. If we go now, we can be there and back in twenty minutes, let’s go.” Mumbo says.

"You've got a portal nearby, right, Doc?" He nods.

Iskall pats Ren’s back, and smiles. “Let’s do this.”

“I suppose four people is too many to fly stealthily through the Nether?” Grian asks.

“That, and I’m going to need an extra pair of hands in the lab.” Doc raises his eyebrow, and Grian nods at him. "You can count on me."

Doc then turns towards the three of them who are preparing their elytras, checking to see if they’ve got enough food.

“Ren.”

Doc presses his trident in Ren’s hands. He looks like a proud father sending his son into combat.

“God speed.” Ren nods, a smile tucking at the corner of his mouth. He looks at Iskall and Mumbo, and then they’re off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo wee, this has been quite the chapter! We’re about halfway through, following the timeline of the musical!
> 
> [𝅘𝅥𝅮 2322 sips of tea for me 𝅘𝅥𝅮](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnVDArGRyec)


	8. Rescue mission

They enter False’s base a record-breaking 10 minutes later. It was already starting to get dark outside, but the moon shone brightly through the central tower of her base.

“False?!” Ren calls out.

“Shhhh, dude, shut up! If we want to get out of here unscathed we have to be quiet.” Iskall says. Ren looks taken aback, but then nods in agreement.

“Did she say where she was hiding?” Mumbo asks.

“Somewhere on the bottom floor, I think.”

“Then let’s get downstairs, we’ll search our way up.” The three hermits nod at each other, and they glide down as silently as possible with their elytras.  
Mumbo lands perhaps a bit too rough for his liking on his ankles, but he keeps quiet. He looks around the different branches of False’s base, it looks quite eerie now that it’s getting darker. It feels empty... abandoned.

Iskall coughs softly. “Hey... this is where the Dragon Bro stuff happened, isn’t it?” 

“Huh? Yeah, I suppose it is.” Mumbo answers. Ren looks at them for a moment, but then goes back to quietly calling False’s name.

“Dragon bros... Heh. That brings back so many memories.”

“Shh. Focus, Iskall.”

“Right, right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He shakes his head, but after a few seconds of silence he continues again. 

“Can you bro? No you can’t. Unless you are... a dragon bro...” Iskall stops dead in his tracks, making Mumbo bump into him. “Iskall! What the hell?” He whispers.

“I think there’s something wrong, guys.” He says. His voice is shaking, and he laughs nervously.

“Iskall..?”

“Dragon bros, dragon bros... It’s-” Iskall slaps himself in the face. _“Does whatever a-”_ He slaps himself again. Ren turns to look at them with increasing worry. Iskall’s chuckles become higher and more panicked.

“I’m sorry guys, I- I don’t want to. I can’t stop it-” Tears begin to fall from his eyes. “Snap out of it, Iskall, _this isn’t bro.”_ It’s like he’s fighting with himself. His face contorts, shifting from a grin to looking scared. Terrified. He looks up at Mumbo and Ren, reaching out. Mumbo pulls Ren back with caution. Iskall looks hurt by that more than anything else. Realization becomes apparent in his eyes.

Mumbo realizes what he's just done as well. Iskall, he- He’s infected. He’s _infected._

_“Bro,_ bro, bro, _that’s bro, bro-_ **NO** , _bro, bro…”_

Iskall seems to struggle against himself, he drops to the floor. He sobs as the singing takes over his speech more and more. 

“Mumbo, please, _be a bro,_ be a dragon bro, _dragon bro... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_ Iskall reaches out and Mumbo takes another step back. He watches with horror in his eyes as his friend is slowly being taken over by- by _aliens,_ he supposes. 

Doc was right. Iskall was right, too. They’d all die if they left the bunker. Iskall is dying. 

“I’m sorry, Iskall. I’m so sorry.” Mumbo whispers, pulling Ren back another few steps despite his struggling.

Iskall’s nervous laugh devolves into something otherworldly. It sends chills down Mumbo's spine. Tears pour from Iskall's eyes as he fights to keep his mouth shut. Every time he opens it notes come out instead of words, and it looks like he wants to get closer to Ren and Mumbo, but at the same time not. Fighting himself, fighting those _aliens,_ as he must not want to get either of his friends infected, either.

Iskall knows. Ren knows. Mumbo knows.

There’s nothing they can do.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Get out. 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_ He sings.

Mumbo nods with tears in his eyes, he tugs at Ren’s sleeve. “Come on. Let’s find False and get out of here-” He turns around, but freezes in his steps as he hears another voice echo throughout the building.   
It gradually becomes louder and louder, and Mumbo recognizes it as belonging to False. But when her words become more coherent, his urge to get out grows exponentially.

“False!” Ren yells. “False! We’re here! Let’s get out of here!” Ren breaks loose from Mumbo’s grip, running towards where her voice came from. “False!!!”

From the corner of his eyes Mumbo can see Iskall struggling against himself. Iskall looks up, his face morphed half into a grin, half terrified. Mumbo shoots him one last sympathetic look.

They’ll be back for him. Doc will figure out how to deal with it. They can cure him.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Dragon bros, dragon bros... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

False’s figure appears from one of the dark hallways. 

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Dragon dragon, dragon bros... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

She joins Iskall’s song, providing a nice harmony to his deep voice. He’s given in, now. Full-on singing, getting up and slowly walking towards them. Tears stain his cheeks but his eyes are lifeless. Empty. Their voices sound absolutely haunting.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Dragon bros, dragon bros... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Mumbo’s heart sinks in his chest as he sees Ren drop to the ground.

“False... Not you too...”

“Ren. The trident.” Mumbo says.

Ren clutches the weapon in his hands, his knuckles turning white with how tight he’s holding it. 

“Falsie... I wasn’t fast enough. You were already...”

Mumbo darts towards him, biting his cheek at his slightly sprained ankle. He helps Ren stand up, but the hermit is swaying on his feet. He looks like he’s about to throw up. Mumbo feels increasingly more agitated the longer they just stand there. As False and Iskall creep up on them, lifeless eyes locked on their every move.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Dragon dragon, dragon bros... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

“Ren, now is not the time!” Mumbo shakes him by his shoulders, hoping to bring him back to the real world. Ren blinks a couple times and shakes his head.

“Listen, hey, we need to leave. Right now. Either we get out of here or we take them out. There’s no other option.” Mumbo offers him as kind a smile he can give, given the current situation.

Ren shakes his head more firmly. “We’re not leaving without False. We can still save her. We can still help them. Doc knows a way, I’m sure he does! He knows _everything!_ They’re gonna be okay, we can still save them... We can still save them both...” 

“Ren, snap out of it! That’s not False anymore and you _know_ it. Come on-” Mumbo pat Ren’s back softly, hiding his urgency.

“Okay. Okay.” Ren takes a deep breath. “No, you’re right. You’re right, Mumbo, I- I’m sorry. It’s just-” He chuckles dryly.

“It’s all my fault.”

Ren turns around. Turns his back on the two hermits who are approaching them. There’s a sad smile on his face. 

“It’s my fault they’re dead and now I’m supposed to kill them again? What a cruel joke.” Ren lets go of the trident, dropping it to the floor. The sound echoes painfully against the walls.

“I- I can’t do it, Mumbo.”

Mumbo clenches and unclenches his fists. _Of course_ Ren blames himself for this- the idiot has a heart too big for his own good. Mumbo wants to say something but he can’t. He can’t find the right words; he knows that no matter what he says, he won’t be able to convince Ren. Mumbo reaches out but then pulls back again. There’s no time. He has to do this himself.

He nods at Ren, and then picks up the trident. He takes position next to him. His hands are shaking, he knows, but there’s no other way. There’s no other way, he keeps telling himself. Mumbo blinks away the tears in his eyes as best he can, aiming the weapon at his former friends. They show absolutely no change in facial expression.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Dragon bros, dragon bros... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

But as he psyches himself up to actually throw it, Ren jumps in front of him, his back towards Iskall and False, arms spread.

“You can’t do this! I can’t let you do this!”

“Ren, what the hell?!” Mumbo yelps.

“There’s got to be another way. A better way! I’m not going to watch you kill our friends!” He screams with tears in his eyes. “There’s got to be a way we can still save them! There _has_ to be!”

Mumbo closes his eyes, not lowering the trident.

“Get out of the way, Ren.” He says through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse. He has to do this now. If he lingers on it for too long they’ll die. Mumbo looks up to see Iskall almost reaching Ren. _God,_ they really do walk slowly, don’t they?

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Bro, bro, bro, bro, bro, bro, bro, that's bro... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

With newfound determination Mumbo takes aim again. His hands have stopped shaking. The singing, if you can call it that, only becomes louder and louder. 

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Bro, bro, bro, bro, bro, bro, yeah, we bro! 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

“No!” Ren stumbles forwards and pulls the weapon out of Mumbo’s grip, and tosses it aside.

Mumbo is shaken from his concentration. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“I can’t let you do this! I can’t- It’s my fault that Iskall came here in the first place. If there’s a chance, no matter how _god damn_ small it is I’m willing to take it to bring them back. We can’t throw out all our options yet.”

Mumbo’s shoulders relax for just a second. He nods. “Okay. I hear you, Ren, I hear you. Come on, let’s go.” Ren sighs in relief and quickly steps forward, letting himself fall into Mumbo’s arms. 

Maybe Ren is right, after all. He doesn’t want to see anyone else die. Not anymore.

“Our friends are all dead, Mumbo. They’re all dead and now we’re going to die as well.” Ren almost whispers in Mumbo’s arms. He's shaking. Mumbo squeezes Ren tightly, offering him some reassurance.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna let you die-”

  
  


Ren coughs up blood straight into Mumbo’s face.

His eyes go wide as his mind catches up with the telltale sound of a trident hitting its target.

Ren goes limp in his arms, and Mumbo can’t hold him anymore from the shock. Ren drops to the ground, the trident sticking from his back.

“Ren?” Mumbo asks, dropping to his knees. The world starts to spin. He shakes Ren’s body, prods him, yells at him, but he doesn’t respond. 

“Ren, oh god, please no... Come on, Ren... Don’t leave me here!”

He isn’t moving. He isn’t breathing.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Dragon bros, dragon bros... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

They come closer and closer. The trident _rips_ from Ren’s body, taking chunks of flesh with it, sending red blood flying all over. The weapon flies straight into Iskall’s hands.

Mumbo tries to pull Ren away from them but he isn’t budging.

_“W̏e̖ j͞u͛sͪt᷃ k̴eͅe᷾p͇ rͪuͧn᷾n̙i͙nͥg᷉ i̖nͧt̵ŏ e͛a̕c͓ḣ oͧt̿ḩe᷃r᷇,͔ d᷾o͆n͜’᷉t̞ w̼e̙,ͅ M̳ṳm͉b̄o͋?̼”_ Iskall and False say simultaneously. They stop at Ren’s feet, looking down on Mumbo.

He looks up and with tears clouding his vision he manages to dodge the trident narrowly. It rips his suit jacket but that’s the least of Mumbo’s worries right now. 

He deploys his elytra, he fires probably way too many rockets in an attempt to escape, but his foot gives and he slips on the blood that is slowly pooling underneath Ren’s body. The rockets take off pathetically without him, not even ending in a distractingly beautiful and loud bang. 

Mumbo scrambles up and runs for his life towards the nearest bubble elevator, but seemingly out of nowhere Tango appears, blocking his way. Mumbo almost crashes into him. His eyes are glazed over, having lost their usual brightness. There's blue goo stuck to his clothes.

All three of them speak at the same time.

_“W̟e̘ h̑a͞v̖e͖ t̓r͞a̾v̮e̩l͝l̍e͌d᷉ a̻c͂r̊oͬs̒s͐ s̽e̮a̔s̑ o᷆f̴ s̏t̏a̛r͌s᷁,͍ b̻ěnͮdͣi͂nͧgͤ c͏ǫu͈n̅t̺l͛e̥s̗s̪ s̨e᷂r̛v̇eͪr̸s̈́ t́o̍ o͋u̙ṟ w̴i̜l̳l̩,̐ y᷅eͅt͝ y͈o͘u͉ h̏ạv̀e̴ d̀e̘f᷉i̒èd̏ u̴s̒ t͇hͥr̦i͗c͡e̡.͆”_ Mumbo dodges the trident again, silently cursing his attempt at landing earlier.

All three infected hermits manage to look... disappointed? Angry? Mumbo doesn't want to know.

_“T͗h̚iͦš p̝ṵn᷅yͅ w͞e̖a᷁pͪo͏ń i͙s͢ t̃o᷀o̶ q͎uͨi͢c͖kͭ a̳ d͆e̺a᷄t̕h̤ f̦o͏r̘ y̭oͮuͨ.̊”_ Iskall tosses the thing to the side. They start closing in on Mumbo, driving him back into a corner.

_“W̦e͆ s̟h̥ä́l̻l̆ r͔e̪n̵d̶ y̹o͜u̵ l̬i̇m̕b̃ f̫r͐o̓ṃ l͕i͑mͦbͮ.᷆ Y̸oͥu͒ s̈́h᷅a̴l᷆ľ c᷉h̀oͥk͏e̤ o᷃n̠ y͒o᷆u͌r̿ ăg̻o͐n̾y̫ a͡s͇ yͤo͆u̘ b̗e̬g̦ f̤o͏r͔ a̠p͘õẗh̉e᷇o͕s̃i̊s̍!̍”_ Mumbo makes a break for the trident, bumping into False on his way there. She grasps at him but she’s a little too slow. Mumbo grabs the trident and tries to aim, but he can’t get his body to cooperate. His shaky hands keep dropping it, and he can’t seem to focus his eyes through all the blood and tears.

The three hermits come closer and all Mumbo can do is watch. He's frozen in place by fear and exhaustion and pain. They surround him, humming, their volume increasing steadily. They reach out their arms, grasping at his jacket, at his hair. Mumbo curls up into a ball. 

This is it, he thinks. This is the end. He’s going to die. He let Iskall and Ren die, and now it’s his turn. He won’t see Grian and Doc again and he’d join Iskall and all the others in their singing.

But then he hears a rocket being fired, and the next split second the entire room is filled with blinding light and deafening explosives. Blue and white particles fill his vision and Mumbo presses his hands to his ears to block out the noise, shutting his eyes tightly.

Another rocket fires, and Mumbo curls up into himself. What the fuck is happening? Who’s firing at them?

Then, it’s quiet. Slowly, Mumbo looks up. He sees False’s body on the ground. Half her head split open and blue goo oozing out. Her hair is singed. The other two infected are nowhere to be seen.

Mumbo hears multiple pairs of footsteps behind him and he turns around. People in black suits and sunglasses approach him. One of them walks straight toward him, holding out a diamond sword. He looks like he’s about to use it.

“Wait w-wait I’m not one of them! I’m _human,_ I’m-” Mumbo is hit in the head with the blunt end of the sword. He passes out instantly.

“Yeah prove it, asshole, we’re the HIB.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [𝅘𝅥𝅮 Yeah, we bro 𝅘𝅥𝅮](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-1ttmUg90hk)


	9. Blackout

Grian peers through microscopes and flips through pages of data. He looks at the test tubes filled with all kinds of substances. He doesn’t know what half the stuff here does, if he’s honest, but it’s something to pass the time, at least.  
He’s never been to this part of the bunker before. Hell, he didn’t even know of its existence in the first place. 

“Remarkable.” Grian looks up at Doc. He holds up a vial full of a blue liquid. Grian didn’t need to guess to know what it was.

“Tell me, Grian, how do you explain an entire race of beings spontaneously bursting into song and dance?” Doc walks over toward him. “How do they all know the lyrics? The choreography?”

Grian furrows his brows. “I don’t know, they... They’re all getting orders from the mothership?” If he’s serious about that whole ‘alien’ thing, then... they might as well, right?

Doc grins. “You’re not far off.”  
“What we’re dealing with here is a collective consciousness. On one level they are individuals, but... On another they are all appendages of a much larger organism. All connected by a central brain.”

“And the brain came down in the meteor?” Grian questions, entertaining Doc’s ramblings.

“Or!” He slams the potion down onto a table. “It _is_ the meteor!”

“Okay... And so it wants to kill us so it can resurrect us as a part of its crappy musical?” Grian really doesn’t understand what Doc is getting at here.

“That’s- That’s one way of putting it, yeah.” Doc says. “You could also say it’s... _Uniting_ us, in one common purpose.” Grian takes a step back.

“Think about it! If this entity were to spread to the entire server, why, it could achieve something none of us could ever even dream of... Peace. Cooperation. Think about the projects, the _builds!!!”_ Something in his eye glistens and Grian is starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Doc was always a little, _eccentric,_ let’s say. But this was taking it to a whole new level. He couldn’t possibly be thinking about..?

“That’s cool and all, but how do we stop it?” Grian says.

Doc looks a bit taken aback, and that’s making Grian all the more suspicious.  
“Yes, of course.” He stammers. “Stop it...” The green man turns around, rummaging through drawers and boxes of items.

Grian runs his hands through his hair, trying to think. “Alright, alright. So, this all started with the meteor. _It_ is the brain, so... if we take _it_ out, will all things just go back to normal?” He’s just thinking out loud now.

“That’s a sound theory, Grian...” Doc’s voice sounds from way too close behind. When did he get-? Doc forcefully grabs his arm and turns him around.

“Ow! Doc, what are you-?” He’s holding a syringe, and before Grian can process the situation he feels its contents being injected into his arm. 

“... Which is why it must never leave this room.” He feels himself go slack in Doc’s arms, never even getting the chance to fight. The world goes dark in front of Grian’s eyes, and he passes out.

\----

Mumbo wakes up. _God,_ his head hurts like hell. He rubs his eyes and then looks around. Where... where is he?

A person in a black suit enters the room. It’s the same person who-!

“Sorry for the knock on the head, son. You can never be too careful.” He says. His voice is deep and he has a strange aura around him. Mumbo’s never seen this man before.  
“What’s your name?” He asks. Mumbo feels almost too intimidated to answer.

“Er... Mumbo. Mumbo Jumbo” The man in the suit holds out his hand. Mumbo takes it and he’s being shaken way too violently for his liking.

“Good evening, mister Jumbo, I’m Captain Angry Eyes of the Area 77 special unit ‘Hermits In Black’. We call ourselves the H.I.B.”

“H.I.B? Angry eyes-? I’ve never heard of you guys.”

“And you never will.” The Captain raises his eyebrows. “I’m keeping my eyes on you.” Mumbo shrinks back into his seat.

Finally the Captain stops shaking his hand. 

“That’s a joke, son.” The Captain pats his back. “We have the unenviable task of cleaning up messes of a certain nature... Situations not unlike what we have on the server today.”

“...Are you saying stuff like this has happened before?”

The Captain grabs Mumbo’s tie and pulls his face way too close for comfort. “I said nothing of the sort, that information is classified, understand?”

Mumbo gulps. “Yes sir.”

“Good.” He lets go and Mumbo falls back into his seat.

“However, seeing how fast this alien contagion spread, you have to know we were quite shocked to find a survivor like yourself so deep into infected territory. What were you doing in there, son?”

Mumbo shuts his eyes tightly, trying to remember what had even happened.

“We were... We were trying to rescue someone. False was trapped, and we were going to get her out of there... Ren... _oh god,_ Ren and Iskall! They...”

“Take a deep breath, son, we got you out of there safely. No harm done.”

“I- Did you find anyone else in there?”

“We found plenty of shells of former hermits, if that’s what you’re asking about. My team is clearing everything up as we speak.”

“No, no you can’t be serious! Ren... He wasn’t infected, he-!” Then Mumbo remembers. The trident. They killed him. They killed Ren.

“They got him, didn’t they?”

The Captain has a sympathetic look for a split second. He pats Mumbo’s shoulders, a little softer this time. “I’m sorry, son.”

“No, it’s..." He sighs. "I wish I could have done something to prevent it.”

“I like the way you think, mister Jumbo! Let me let you in on a secret.” He presses his face close to Mumbo’s ears.

“We’ve contained the meteor. The source of all this madness. We’re bringing it back to our research facilities and are treating it with utmost security. It will only be a matter of time before we uncover its mysteries and find a cure.”

“So you’re looking for a way to reverse-”

“-it’s effects, absolutely. If plan A fails we’ll hop on over to Plan B which involves the ripping apart of the fabric of time and space in order to contain the entity before it has a chance to even land.” Angry Eyes pulls his chair underneath him and sits on it backwards, leaning on the backrest.

“Say, son. Do you know anything about time travel?”

Mumbo’s eyes go wide. “I, er... can’t say I do.”

“Good, good, let’s keep it that way, shall we? But let’s say that _hypothetically_ we were to be in possession of a highly unstable piece of technology which is capable of ripping through the very fabrics of time and space... Now... doesn’t that give you a tingle of hope?” The captain looks at him with an expecting look in his eyes. Mumbo doesn’t really understand, but nods nonetheless.

“We are going to stop this, no matter what.” The Captain nods at him.

“Can I ask you something, sir?”

“What is it, son?”

“I heard people talk about leaving the server. Is that really going to happen?”

The Captain looks at him for a few thoughtful seconds.

“We have an evac chopper out on the runway just in case all else fails. It’ll take us to the next season, effectively leaving this world behind.”

“Oh...”

“There’s not many people left, mister Jumbo.” The Captain’s voice sounds softer. “If you get there at 2300 hours sharp, you’ve got yourself a seat on that chopper.”

“Wow, er- Thank you?” Angry Eyes pats his back once again and he starts to walk away. “Wh-wait, Captain Angry Eyes.”

He turns around.

“How many people can fit in that chopper?”

The Captain raises one eyebrow. “Not many, why?”

“There’s a few people left. And- and I don’t think we should leave them behind. Can they come, too?”

He seems to think about his words for a moment. “Can these people contribute to a new server?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Definitely.” Mumbo nods without hesitation.

“Well then you know what that means.” The Captain pulls out his crossbow, loaded, and points it straight at Mumbo. His heart starts beating like a zero-tick sugarcane farm. Did he say something wrong?

“...W-what?” He puts up his hands.

“I’m authorizing you to use my crossbow.” He holds it out for Mumbo to take. Mumbo lets out a sigh of relief. Make that two sighs, he can’t believe the things that have happened to him today.

“Get your friends and get your ass to that chopper in two hours time.”

Mumbo tucks away the crossbow in his inventory. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me until we’re both in Season 7 sharing a cup of coffee.” The Captain salutes him and Mumbo, a little thrown off, salutes back. 

“I’ll see you on the chopper.” Captain Angry Eyes marches down the stairs. 

It is now that Mumbo has a chance to see where he is. It’s a small little room with lots and lots of controls. There’s glass windows all around him, and when he peers outside he can see that he’s quite high up.

To his left is the runway of Area 77. It’s weird seeing it from up here. But that also means that he’s near the bunker where Grian and Doc and Cleo still are. He could get them and they could be at the chopper in no-time. That is, if the HIB’s plans all failed. Mumbo wants so desperately to believe that they’re able to find a cure, but something in his heart tells him that it’s not going to happen. Not in two hours time, that’s for sure.

And all the other hermits. Who else is even left still? Mumbo quickly pulls out his communicator. The chat is eerily silent.

But right now he just needs to get to Grian. He promised him that they’d get out of here. That they’d make it. He still has redstone to teach him, dammit! 

Mumbo takes out the crossbow, just in case, and makes his way down the stairs.

* * *

Bonus: Back at ConCorp

_Earlier that day_

“Alright. So, this folder contains pretty much all the ideas and proposals we had for our part of the agreement with Sahara. Read them through carefully, and be on the lookout for anything shady that they might pitch. We’ve discussed many things beforehand, but this is basically just the Sahara boys telling us what they want to do, and if it works out then we’ll shake on it and really get things rolling.”

Biffa nods at Scar’s words, writing down as much info in his little notebook as he can. He doesn’t know much about ConCorp, let alone all the business that was going on behind the scenes of the shopping district, but he was the only person available at such a short notice. Scar has basically been giving the man a crash-course in stocks as well as explain to him what ConCorp stands for all at once.

“And if you have any questions that arise during the meeting, don’t be afraid to shoot me a message. I may have my hands full with Cub, but that doesn’t mean I can slack on the business front! We’ve been working towards this meeting for weeks on end!” Scar shoots him a smile, and Biffa smiles back. Scar can’t thank him enough for staying calm whilst he himself is practically running around the boardroom, compiling the right documents and showing Biffa the ropes.

“Scar, dude, I’ve got this. You’ve got nothing to worry about when it comes to the meeting. If I know Iskall, and I do know him, then he’ll be just as panicked as you are. So what if things get a little messy? We’ll settle this before the end of the day!”

“Biffa, dude, again, thank you so much for-”

“Ssh! You’ve said that too many times already! Now, we’re already behind schedule, I better get going, no?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” Scar nods. He walks Biffa to the closest nether portal. He tries to thank him again and wish him good luck but Biffa isn’t having it. He shakes his head with a smile, and disappears into thousands of purple particles.  
Scar walks over to the nearest chair and drops down. He’s still nervous. How can he not be? But Biffa told him again and again; he’s got this. Things were going to be okay. But, now that one problem was being taken care of, taken off his shoulders, another remains.

Scar gets up, his vision a little blurry. Honestly, he’s been up for way too long already. Cub woke him up 4 hours before his usual alarm with his strange condition. The very thing that made it impossible for him to participate in the meeting.

“Cub? Are you feeling any better?” He asks when he knocks on Cub’s storage room door.

No answer. 

Scar presses his ear to the door. It’s made of iron, so it can be tough to hear through, sometimes. 

“Cub? You there?” He asks again, a little louder.

Silence. Not even a single note from that song he couldn’t stop singing the entire morning.

“I’m coming in.” Scar says, a little more panicked. For all he knows this singing thing is actually dangerous, and Cub had succumbed to previously unknown dangerous symptoms.  
 _That’s ridiculous,_ Scar thinks, but he still can’t help the worry from bubbling up.

Inside the lights are turned off, making it so he can’t see Cub anywhere, even if he wanted to.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa…𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

The happy tune from earlier sounds a whole lot more haunting, all of a sudden. A chill runs up Scar’s spine.  
“Cub? Whatever it is you’re doing, it’s not fun anymore.”

He feels a breath ghosting his neck, before a strong force pushes him forwards, knocking all the air from his lungs.  
Scar huffs and tries to scramble up, but what he assumes to be Cub’s foot presses him further into the ground. 

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba ra, ba ra pa pa…𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

“Cub? What are you doing?” He strains to say. He feels himself being turned around, now lying on his back.  
Scar looks up. If he squints he can see Cub with the help of the little stream of light from the iron door.

The door that was keeping Cub in. The door that is now open.

Cub produces a sword from his inventory, and holds it against Scar’s throat. It gleams as sunlight is reflected off of it.

Scar’s heart drops, but he tries not to show it. _This isn’t Cub_. Cub would never do this to him. He wouldn’t. It’s that damn virus or parasite or- _it isn’t Cub._  
But then... why does it hurt so much to see that wicked grin on his usually soft and kind face?

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba na, na na na na... Na na na na na…𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Scar gulps, only managing to produce a whisper. “Why?” It’s the only thing he can think of. It’s all that’s left in his mind.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba na, na na na na... Na na na na…𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

“Cub, for god’s sake, please _talk_ to me!” He yells with tears in his eyes. 

His coworker merely smiles, plunging his sword down into Scar’s abdomen. Twisting it around for good measure.

Scar doesn’t scream. He doesn’t cry. It hurts. Oh, it hurts like _hell._ But it hurts more to know that it’s _Cub._ After all they’ve been through, it’s _Cub_ who kills him. Scar laughs, coughing up warm liquid. What bitter irony.

The last thing he thinks of is how he should have been more careful. How he should have warned the other hermits of whatever it is that Cub contracted. But it’s too late now. Scar succumbs to the pain, letting the darkness at the back of his mind pull him away.


	10. Something to shock ‘em

“Psst.”

"Psst!"

“Hey, Grian.” The voice sounds soft, muffled. Like someone encased his head in layers and layers of glass, creating a fog-like effect. Grian’s mind is swimming, and it feels like he could sleep for days on end.

Something pokes him in his back, and he opens his eyes in surprise. His vision is blurry, and it doesn’t feel like he’s fully present quite yet.

“Grian, wake up!” Another poke in his back. This time he feels it much more clearly. The voice sounds closer, too. Grian shakes his head in an effort to get his vision to focus. It doesn’t work, but at least he can feel again. His hands tingle like they do when they’re asleep. He tries to move but finds his limbs tied together.

“Wh- what? What happened?” He slurs. He tries to get his bearings on his surroundings. After a couple more deep breaths he finally feels a little grounded.

He’s still in the bunker. They’re right in front of the main entrance, if he remembers correctly. Grian groans, _god,_ his head hurts. He tries to move again, and adrenaline and panic begin to course through him. He’s trapped. Doc... Doc is up to something! He has to get out, he has to-!

“Grian! Shh!” The person behind him whisper-yells. Grian strains his neck to see, only to be met with a face full of bright orange hair. Cleo.

“If we make too much noise he might come back.” She whispers. “We have to find a way to get out of these before-”

The cyborg himself appears out of the dark hallway. 

“So. You’re finally awake.” He says. Cleo hisses something under her breath.

“Doc, what are you doing?” Grian says. His voice feels hoarse, but maybe he can still talk him out of whatever it is he’s planning on doing to them.

He approaches them with certain determination.

“Exactly what needs to be done, Grian.” He takes out a small device, similar looking to any old communicator. He presses some buttons on the screen, and the big metal doors behind them creak as they come to life. As they open up.

Cleo begins to struggle against the rope restraints. “No no no no! That door is the only thing protecting us! What the hell are you doing?” She yells.

“Protecting us from what? From the ‘end of the world’? Civil war? Deforestation? Us hermits keep destroying world after world after world. And in the name of what? _Creativity?”_ Doc scoffs.  
“Cleo,” He turns towards her. “The server was already doomed. Not by them, but by _us.”_

No, no no no this can’t be real. He can’t possibly be thinking that this- this _apocalypse_ is any better than what the hermits have done to the world, right?

Doc must have noticed the confusion in Grian’s eyes, for he continues explaining. “Imagine how efficient we would be if we were all united! All of our strengths combined, no longer limited by fatigue or chased by mobs... We would operate on a system. Working together in perfect harmony, all of us on the same project. Redstone, building, terraforming, armor stands... It seemed impossible to reach before but now... now a new society is right at my fingertips!”

He sighs. “What we here at Area77 were trying to do was save something that could not be saved...”

Grian tries to process what he’s hearing. Is he really... giving up on trying to save the server?

But then Doc’s mouth curls up into a smile. 

“...Until now.”

Grian’s heart sinks. Behind him Cleo struggles more and more against the restraints.

“But before we can be reborn, I must say my goodbyes.” Grian’s heart nearly jumps out of his chest as suddenly two orange, fluffy things zip by his legs. He catches his breath, watching with hopelessness as Doc lovingly pets the two foxes at his feet. Hans and... Franz? Are those their names?  
Seems fitting that he’d want to say goodbye to his _foxes,_ out of anybody. They’re loyal to him, after all. Nothing like Grian who worked his ass off to make the most of the time they had together, but alright.

It dawns on Grian. This is it then, isn’t it? The gates are open. Infected hermits could come pouring in at any moment. Mumbo and the others still aren’t back. Oh god, Mumbo... Is he still okay? Grian hasn’t gotten a message from him since he left. Not from Ren or Iskall either. His chest tightens at the thought that they could be-

“Doc, please, please just let us go, okay?” Grian says as softly as possible. Trying his very best to get to the bottom of Doc’s heart.

“It’s fine if you want to be part of that alien race or whatever, but you don't have to drag us into this, do you? Just let us go already!” Cleo says, clearly agitated.

Doc looks up from his guard pets. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Cleo. Don’t you two see? In order for us hermits to survive on this server, we must evolve. All of us, no exceptions. That’s what this visitor from the stars has brought us. Salvation.”

He’s nuts. He’s gone absolutely nuts. Who knew that spending your time inside of a military bunker for so long could do something like this to a person?

“We must join them. This is our second chance. Our saving grace.”

“Doc. Think about what you’re doing.” Cleo says, Grian doesn't think he's ever heard her voice so grave, so void of sarcasm before.

Doc smiles. “Did you know that next to science and astronomy, I have another hobby? Another passion?” He opens up a chest on one of the many shelves that line the walls.

“I’ve played around with it every now and again, in between work hours, and,” He pulls out a device. A _jukebox._

“I’ve always loved writing my own songs.”

“Oh. God. No.” Cleo slumps back. She seems to have accepted the fact that they’re not going to get out of here.

Doc places the contraption down, going back to the chest to dig for other items. He mumbles to nobody in particular. “After examining that creature we once called Xisuma, I made a fascinating discovery. These aliens... they possess a highly specialized gland that allows them to communicate through rhythmic frequencies.” He pulls out a couple of music discs.

“They’re drawn to music.” Doc grins. “Like pigmen to turtle eggs.”

He walks over to the jukebox, popping a disc in. 

“No, no no no don’t you bloody do it, Doc. Don’t you-!”

“This is humanity’s eleventh hour.” He says. “Why don’t we listen to some tunes while we wait?”

Music begins to echo against the walls and the high ceiling. The doors are wide open. It’s dark outside, and it feels like something could pop out at them at any moment.

“Doc, please, no, if they hear us they will _kill_ us.” Doc just smiles, tapping his feet to the rhythm of the song. Grian has never heard it before, and if the circumstances were different, he might have even liked it.

“What do you think? Pretty good, huh?”

Grian keeps his mouth shut, lips sealed tightly. Cleo scoffs.

Doc rolls his eye. “But it’s nothing like the ones I’ve actually written lyrics for.”

“Please don’t, we can’t-”

Doc pops out the previous disc, filling the room with comforting silence for just a few seconds.

“I wrote this for my fellow Team Star members, during the Civil War. But I’ve never let anyone hear it before. Would you like to be the first ones?” Doc looks strangely hopeful. Grian stubbornly shakes his head.

“But you started it all. Don’t you remember?”  
The jukebox comes to life, playing a beat of different kinds of noteblocks.

“Listen Grian,” Doc begins. “Nobody touches my bush. _You’re done!”_

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 It all started when Grian touched my redstone. He played himself like a xylophone set on automatic 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Grian struggles against his restraints, burning his wrists against the rope as he hopelessly tries to get it loose. Doc’s gone mad, that he’s certain of.  
But just because _he_ wants to die doesn’t mean Grian does. There _has_ to be a way out of this, a way to distract him before the infected hermits come... just, _something!_

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Doc Monster is a savage, with technical skills and crazy vocal acrobatics- 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Grian can’t feel his communicator in his pocket. Their inventories are probably emptied out as well, if he knows Doc. He feels his heartbeat pick up even more, sweat dripping down his forehead from all his efforts.

“Grian, dude. Stay calm, okay? We’ll make it out of this.” Cleo whispers into his ear. He can’t see her face clearly, but her voice sounds uneven.

Grian tries to take a deep breath, tries to hold himself together, but when he breathes out he can feel tears prickling in his eyes.

“How can I stay calm when we’re about to die? Doc has gone insane and we’re about to be assimilated into this race of musical aliens, and- and there’s nothing we can do, and Ren and Mumbo and Iskall still aren’t back and they’re probably dead as well and-”

He’s shut up by a harsh elbow in his back.

“I- I’m sorry, Cleo.” Grian sniffs. “But... we’re not gonna get out of here alive, are we?”

“Not with that attitude.”

“Do you believe so yourself?” Cleo’s silence speaks volumes.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 -to douse the flames that you shoot at this leviathan, Iskall can try again! 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Doc stops his rap, ending what Grian assumes was his verse, but another voice from outside takes over. 

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Yo! You think I'm in hiding, I'm just biding my time... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_ Wels enters the bunker, an unnatural smile on his face as he goes to stand next to Doc. Doc looks just as surprised as Grian, but his surprise seems to stem from excitement rather than fear. 

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 ...Putting pen to paper, coming up with rhymes_  
_We're the star-studded group that got together just to crush you_  
_Once we start something you know we're gonna see it through 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Grian can feel himself slipping in and out of reality, not quite catching everything that’s going on. Wels' voice echoes hauntingly against the walls, blending into each other in his ears.  
Before he knows it Wels’ verse is over, and Grian doesn’t know if he should be relieved or not.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 -Y'all are outgunned, go home, nerds 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

“Wels? Is that really you?” Doc says in disbelief once his part is finished. He reaches his hands out towards the other, the _parasite._

“No, Doc, that’s not Wels-!”

_“Hey gang.”_ Another voice says. But- but that can’t be, that’s...

False walks inside, a spring in her step. A mean wound, leaking blue goo on display on the side of her head.

_False..._ but... then Mumbo and Ren... and Iskall, too... Their mission... Grian furiously blinks away his tears. His chest feels heavy, so _god damn_ heavy, but there’s no need to break down in front of these... these _creatures._ Definitely not in front of Doc.

_“Ready to crush team G?”_ False smiles. Doc looks absolutely elated. False casts the two trapped hermits a mean look, before breaking out into her apparent verse.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 If you think you can stop the symmetry, that's false. G-Team is dialling for help, but I'm ignoring their calls- 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Grian’s vision goes hazy. False’s words are going in one ear and coming back out the other, and nothing makes sense anymore. How did the infected get all the way over here? How do they know the lyrics to the song that Doc apparently wrote all by himself? Why- why do they like to torture them so much before ultimately killing them? Why is this even happening in the first place? Why? Why? _Why..?_

Then, all too suddenly, False and Wels grab Doc by his shoulders, dragging him further into the bunker. He eagerly complies, letting himself be taken away. Grian can’t make out what Doc’s saying exactly, but he sounds excited. His words don’t reach his brain.

Someone else’s sudden presence from behind violently tugs Grian back into the real world. He yelps but a soft ‘shhh’ makes him turn his head around.

“...Mumbo?” Cleo whispers.

“It’s okay guys, I’m going to get us out of here.” Mumbo makes quick work of the rope around their wrists and ankles, and Cleo sighs in relief. 

Grian feels shaky when standing up, still not quite believing that this is really happening. That Mumbo is still alive, and that he’s just saved them from certain death and assimilation.

“Let’s go while they’re distracted.” Grian feels Mumbo grab his wrist, pulling him outside. His grip hurts because of the burns, but he doesn’t care. _Mumbo's here?!_

Once they’re fully out in the open night air, Grian finally feels like he can breathe again. Slowly but surely, his thoughts return to him.

They keep running toward the small line of trees. Ducking behind the foliage to hide out of sight from anything inside, and possibly outside the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [𝅘𝅥𝅮 Hermitgang, hermitgang, hermitgang, hermitgang 𝅘𝅥𝅮](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j2cIf3UaTNA)
> 
> Okay, but. Can you imagine Doc singing Show Stoppin Number? Because I can. Doc is absolutely the type of person to do such a thing, what a man.


	11. And the world is skewed

“Okay... Okay,” Mumbo huffs. “There’s a helicopter coming to pick us up in...” He looks at his communicator. “...soon. Come on, we have to go.”

“Go where?!” Cleo barks out in between deep breaths. “There’s nowhere left to go! The whole server is going down!”

“I figured... And so did Doc and Angry Eyes. They’ve been monitoring and anticipating this since the very beginning.” Mumbo says.

“And do they know how to stop it? How to save it?” Cleo scoffs.

“They’ve got plans, but... I’m not confident enough to say for sure that we’ll be safe. We definitely won’t be if we stay out here.”

“So we’re supposed to run away like cowards, with our tails in between our legs?”

Mumbo keeps his eyes on the ground.

“Mumbo?” Grian asks. The bags under his eyes make him look utterly exhausted. He probably is. Mumbo mustn’t look much better himself either, when he thinks about it.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s Ren and Iskall?” He asks. Mumbo’s heart sinks in his chest, and he decidedly keeps quiet. 

Grian exhales softly. “Oh.”

“God, I should have known...” Cleo says, rubbing the place in between her eyebrows. “Is there absolutely nothing we can do, then? Are we just supposed to sit it out? Wait until it’s our turn to die?”

“Oh! That reminds me-” Grian speaks up. “The reason Doc... took me, _us,_ hostage.”

“Hm?” Mumbo looks up.

“When I was down in his lab earlier, we were speculating about how to stop it, how to stop the invasion, and- and I think he drugged me because of an idea I had.”

“Please do tell this magnificent idea of yours, Grian.” Cleo says. She looks impatient.

“Everybody who’s infected by this blue goo is being controlled by a, a ‘central brain’, he called it. The meteor apparently is this central brain. If we take it out, everybody might go back to normal.” Grian sounds hopeful. Mumbo hasn’t found it in himself to look at anything with that much optimism anymore, though.

“Well then, let’s destroy that meteor!” Cleo says.

“But... what if destroying it just kills everybody instead?” Mumbo blurts out before he can really think about it.

Cleo takes a deep breath.

“I’m willing to take that chance.”

Mumbo winces at her words. He genuinely doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do anymore.

Then a deafening noise from the sky breaks their little moment of what could be called peace. It sounds like... like motors? Something whirring and buzzing. The leaves and branches begin to shake in the wind the thing causes. All three of them carefully peek up from between the trees. Four huge drones, all carrying the same, large thing, fly over their heads. Mumbo looks up. Strapped in between the machines is a huge rock. A boulder, emanating a strange blue glow.

“Is that the...”

“...the meteor?” Grian whispers, confused. 

“I think it is, yeah.”

“What is it doing over here? Who’s controlling those?”

Mumbo recognizes the drones, the logos barely visible in the dark. They’re ConCorp drones. But, didn’t the Captain say that he and the H.I.B. had everything under control? The H.I.B. was supposed to contain it. Not ConCorp. Not Cub, not... _Cub-_ He’s infected. He’s been infected since the very start. Oh no.  
Is that what the hermits have been building in the shopping district since this morning, then? It makes no sense. Mumbo doesn’t understand.

“I don’t like the look of this.” He says. “Captain Angry Eyes said he and the H.I.B. were going to take care of it, that they had everything under control! They were going to conduct experiments and see if they can reverse its effects.”

“Who? Him and Doc? Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but Doc just willingly gave himself up to join this, this _plague_ that’s swept all of our friends before us. He’s not going to be of any help.”

Mumbo gulps. “They- they have a time machine in there, too. They have technology that we’ve never even heard of, they can-”

“If they could have fixed it don’t you think they would have done it already? I don’t like the prospect of any of this, either. The time machine is in _Doc’s_ hands. _Doc_ is a host for those alien parasites now. They’ve got the meteor, they’ve got the time machine. Lord knows what else they’ve got down in that secret basement of his.” Cleo almost yells.

Mumbo knows she’s right. He knows it, and yet still he doesn’t want to face it. They just have to get out of here. Even if it’s just the three of them, they can rebuild. They can _live._ Maybe one day their friends will be able to join them again, in a different life. 

“Please, just. Let’s get out of here. I don’t want to see anyone else die, let’s get to the helicopter.” He pleads.

“I’m not going. I’ll be damned if I don’t at least try to do _something._ That meteor’s inside the bunker, right? We can’t just ignore this opportunity! I’m gonna go in and I’m going to destroy that bloody thing.”

“It’s not safe! What if you get hurt? What if you get infected, too? What if you succeed, but all the infected hermits die? What if you don’t make it and come back out again, only for the helicopter to have already left? Cleo, I can’t let you-”

_“No_. I’m going in there. And I’m going to destroy that thing with my own god damn hands, if it’s the last thing I do. Give me that crossbow.” Cleo yanks the weapon out of Mumbo’s shaking hands.

“Cleo, you can’t possibly think-”

_“What?!”_ She yells. Grian’s mouth snaps shut.

“All my friends are as good as dead. Hell, I watched Joe being taken over right before my very eyes. I’ve never felt... I’ve never felt so _terrified_ when I saw what happened to him. I could have stopped it too, but I- I didn’t. I was too scared. I ran away." She takes a deep breath. "I’m _not_ going to let that happen again. There’s no way I’m going to leave them behind. If there’s a chance they can still be saved, then I’ll bloody well take it.” Mumbo catches a glimpse of tears beginning to form in her eyes before Cleo turns on her heels, and starts marching back toward the bunker.

He hates to admit it, but she’s right. She’s absolutely right in feeling like that, because he feels like that, too. All the times Mumbo was stuck to the ground, frozen in place because of his own cowardice. Wanting so badly to be able to _do_ something, to _help. T_ o save even _one_ person. The crushing feeling of having other people save him, only for them to die in his stead. 

Mumbo clenches his fists. They’ve still got time before the helicopter leaves for Season 7. If Cleo’s going to have her hands at destroying the meteor, he’d want her to be as safe as possible. And barging in through the front door is far from that.

“Cleo, wait!”

She stops. “What.”

“It’d be dangerous to just walk in through the front door without thinking it through first.”

She opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, bite back, but she snaps it shut again.

“I guess so, yeah. Do you have any better ideas?”

“Well... Grian, you know another way in, right?”

Mumbo has to poke his side three times before Grian returns to the world of the living. “What?”

“Can’t we use your secret hippie tunnel to sneak in? I bet they’re going to be keeping the meteor in the lower levels.”

“Oh. Oh! Yes, of course! Let’s go there immediately.” Grian answers, a hint of a spark back in his eyes.

“That... that actually doesn’t sound like too bad an idea.” Cleo says, her voice a little softer. “I bet that if we all go together, we might actually stand a chance against this thing.”

Mumbo nods, despite his apprehensiveness at the situation. There’s not many other options left, are there?

They turn around, back onto the main road, heading south, where the hippie compound lays. 

The three of them quickly reach the entrance of Area 77. The one they came through just this morning. It looks so different during the night.  
God, it’s only been a day. The whole server collapsed in just a day. It feels like it’s been ages since Mumbo last could just worry about Sahara’s redstone problems. Cables not sending signals and shulkers being stuck somewhere in the system due to chunks not loading. Not... aliens invading, violently killing, and snatching his friends’ bodies.

In the near distance he can see the distinct glow of enchanted diamond armor slowly approach them. Is that another person? Is someone else out there still alive? Mumbo doesn’t know whether to be cautious or relieved. He can’t make out who it is quite yet with how dark it is. They keep walking, however. Cautious of the potential threat.

The person comes closer, and Mumbo sighs in relief, seeing that it is none other than Captain Angry Eyes. He feels the tension leave his body. The Captain is here. He has this entire situation under control. He must be coming back to inspect the meteor, he-

Is that music?

Mumbo shakes his head, but the tune keeps playing. It sounds... it sounds like a beat made up of various note block sounds. Not like anything he’s ever heard before. It’s very distinct and clear and coming from...  
He looks around. Hoping, praying that it isn’t true, but-

“Captain?” Grian asks softly. He looks tense. He must have noticed it too.

The Captain smiles, his characteristic angry eyebrows still there, still prominent on his face.

He breaks out into song- into a _rap,_ and Mumbo tenses up all over again. He feels Grian pull him back, tugging at his disheveled suit jacket.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 It's the Angry Eyes, dressed in black, remember that  
_ _With the base, changing time and space, staying on track 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

“Captain, they got you too...”

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Standing next to me, D.O.C.  
_ _See he's done this before, but not me 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Doc appears seemingly out of nowhere from behind. Mumbo narrowly avoids his grasp, ducking to the side. As the Captain keeps singing, he and Doc keep going for whoever’s closest.

Cleo fumbles with the crossbow, clearly caught off-guard. Mumbo doesn’t blame her, he probably would have been way worse, given the situation.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 -can't find us, we're too undetectable 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Mumbo’s reminded of when he tried to use the trident in False’s base. Iskall. Ren. Then a sudden noise, a rocket, not unlike the one he heard back then shakes him from his thoughts. Cleo fired.

But the rocket misses both infected hermits. It explodes into thousands of particles off in the distance.

“Shit.” Cleo says under her breath. She checks her pockets, but it doesn’t look like she has any backup arrows.

“Either of you have anything?” She asks as she quickly backs up.

Grian shakes his head. Mumbo checks his inventory, pulling out a few leftover rockets from his earlier mission. They aren’t explosive, but it’s something, at least. He tosses them towards Cleo, and she immediately begins to reload the crossbow.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Redstone used and the world is skewed  
_ _You've seen the room, but time's up, bomb goes boom 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Doc's voice sounds otherworldly. Perhaps that expression holds more truth than he realized.

It’s a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Dodging the infected hermits’ grasps whilst simultaneously trying to keep them away from Cleo, who has their only weapon. She looks like she’s got a much more steady grip, this time around. She aims the crossbow, and shoots. The rocket hits Angry Eyes in his chest, successfully knocking him a few blocks back, but not much else.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 -all the enemies will never see  
_ _What the D.O.C. has planned to be 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Cleo begins to reload again, but Doc has managed to come closer and closer. Mumbo doesn’t even see him until it’s too late; he grabs Cleo’s wrists, making the crossbow accidentally fire too early. It sends the rocket flying at an angle into the air, leaving Cleo defenseless.

Mumbo feels himself running towards the two before his mind fully registers it. _He has to help, he can still save her._ But Grian grabs his hand, tugging him away from them.

“Grian-” 

Cleo struggles against Doc. The crossbow has been dropped to the ground. If Mumbo can get to it he can- he can…

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Cause we're fearless, peerless. when you're near us, we're sneaky, never hear us 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Angry Eyes stalks closer and closer. He doesn’t go for Grian and Mumbo, however. 

“Grian, let go.” Mumbo tugs his hand loose, stumbling forwards. 

Doc is holding Cleo’s arms behind her back. She kicks and tries to bite at him, but he doesn’t budge. Captain Angry Eyes saunters closer. He holds up his hand, pressing it to Cleo’s face, no, her mouth. She struggles even harder, now. Thrashing in their grip. Her screams pierce right through Mumbo’s heart.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 You better be prepared to get put in your place 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

She violently squirms and thrashes until she suddenly stops. From this distance Mumbo can see her eyes glaze over, becoming lifeless. The Captain removes his hand, and Cleo begins to hum.

She provides a harmony to the two other hermits’ song.

And all Mumbo can do is watch.

“No... _no!_ You can’t do that! You were supposed to _live!_ You were supposed to _fix_ this!” Mumbo feels, he feels _angry._ At Cleo. At the Captain. At Doc. They’ve all abandoned them. They all died, Mumbo not even getting the chance to try and save them.  
He let them die. He feels angry at himself. There’s got to be another way, there’s got to be something he can do, just. _Something._ _  
_ He can feel Grian pull him away again. Mumbo tries to shake him loose.

“No. No, no no no there’s still time, we can still help, we can-”

“Please, Mumbo, we have to go. Otherwise we’re going to die as well.”

Grian’s words trigger something in his mind and he stops struggling. Mumbo lets himself be pulled back, away from the now three infected hermits who are fast approaching.  
A chill runs down his spine. They’re out in the open. Who knows how many more of them are out here?

“Mumbo, the helicopter! Come on!”

He doesn’t register it until the sound of the blades comes closer and closer. The noise becomes absolutely deafening, and he and Grian struggle against the wind its blades generate. 

Why is it flying so low? Then Mumbo realizes that it is _landing._ They’re still in Area 77. The runway is still within reach. They can still make it.

Mumbo is torn. But there’s no time to think. They have to go. He throws one last look backwards, at what were once his friends.  
With both Doc and Captain Angry Eyes infected... there’s no way they’re going to be able to turn this around, are they? And Cleo, she... She never even got a chance to try, in the end. They got her. Even if Mumbo wanted to help her, he couldn’t. Not anymore. 

He looks at Grian, nodding once. Grian nods back at him, and they start running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ["They’re everywhere."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ngL5KnmaWqg)
> 
> If you know the musical you'll know what happens next >:3c


	12. Getaway

They keep running. Past the bunkers, through the line of trees, hopping over ditches and curbs. It’s tough to see in the dark, and Mumbo almost hurts his ankle again. You’d think that for a highly secure self-appointed military-like operation, they’d at least think about lighting the place up, but alas.

But they don’t stop running until they’re at the helicopter, which has, thankfully, not taken off yet.

Mumbo users Grian inside. He climbs aboard as well, patting the pilot on the shoulders.

He turns around. 

“Scar?!” He and Grian say in unison. Scar gives them a smile.

“Not who you expected?” He laughs softly.

“I- Dude! I thought you were gone!” Mumbo has to fight himself from breaking down right there. Why did the sight of Scar suddenly make him so emotional?

“I didn’t think you were...”

Scar’s signature giggle cuts through the sounds in and around the helicopter. For the first time since... since what feels like forever, really, Mumbo laughs. Scar is alright. He’s _talking_ to them..! He’s going to get all three of them out of here, safely, and they’ll be alright. They’ll be alright.

“Is there anybody else left?” Scar asks.

Mumbo shoots a quick ‘hello?’ in the chat, but no one answers. No one has said anything in a long time now.

He shakes his head, and straps himself in.

Scar nods. His eyes show sadness for a fraction of a second before returning to his cheery look. Mumbo can’t thank him enough for holding it together at a moment like this. 

“Well, then we’re off. Hold onto your butts.” The helicopter comes to life with a great roaring noise. Mumbo has to hold onto Grian due to the shaking of the vehicle, lest the smaller man tumble straight out.

Scar presses buttons and flicks levers expertly. Of _course_ he knows what he’s doing. He probably built the damn thing himself. Is he with the H.I.B. too? He must be.

Grian looks out the side of the helicopter as they take to the air. Despite all the action and adrenaline he manages to look... sad. Melancholic. Mumbo understands why. 

“Goodbye, season six. Goodbye, everybody...” He says, Mumbo can barely hear him above the noise from the heli. He nods, offering a sympathetic smile. Mumbo can’t think about all that he’s lost. Not yet. Once they’re safe and sound he’ll let the floodgates open.

Grian sits back down and puts his hand on Mumbo’s leg. Mumbo puts his own hand over his, offering a soft squeeze. Grian smiles sadly at him.

This was one hell of a violent goodbye to the world they’d grown to love. At least- at least they still have each other. At least they still have Scar.

“Hey Scar? How long’s it gonna be before we’re in the new world?” Mumbo asks after a minute of semi-silence.

Scar doesn’t answer. Did he not hear him?

“Scar?” 

Nothing. Mumbo feels unease begin to bubble up in his stomach.

“Scar..?” He asks again. Grian gets up, holding onto the seat in front of him for stability, and taps Scar on his shoulder to catch his attention.

_“𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa…𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

He turns around, smiling.

Mumbo experiences the next few seconds in slow motion. 

Scar pulls out a crossbow, loaded with a rocket. He points it straight at Grian. 

Mumbo kicks his arm up, and the rocket fires into the ceiling.

Sparks erupt and with an explosion the heli begins to spin out of control. Alarms go off and the lights flicker, making Mumbo dizzy.

Still, he can feel the helicopter quickly losing altitude.

Mumbo closes his eyes.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A scream brings him back to consciousness.

His ears are ringing from the crash. He’s still in the helicopter. No injuries. No major ones at least, miraculously enough. Another scream from outside. It sounds like... no, that definitely is Grian. Mumbo quickly undoes his seat belt and climbs out of the wrecked vehicle. He purposefully ignores Scar’s body as he jumps over it.

Outside he can barely make out Grian’s small silhouette in the dark. They're just outside of Area 77. Couldn't even make it that far, huh? The only lights around coming from the nearby runway, lighting up the backdrop to a scene that should make him more sick than it actually does. After everything he’s experienced today, Mumbo doesn’t know whether he’s become used to it or is just desensitized.

Grian is laying on the ground, clutching his leg. An iron bar stuck through it at a nasty angle. His blood is everywhere. 

“Grian... Oh god...” Mumbo drops to his knees next to him.

“Mumbo?” His eyes search for him in the dark.

“I’m here, Grian, I’m here.” Mumbo reaches out but Grian hisses when he accidentally brushes past his injured leg.

“We’re still on the server. Still right next to Area 77. We need to get to the shore at least, we need to get out of here.” Mumbo tries to help Grian up but he screams in pain when he tries to move him.

“Shit- sorry, I- I’m so sorry...” 

Grian looks up at him.

“I can’t make it...” He huffs. “I’m not gonna make it, Mumbo.”

“No no no don’t you say that- Those things... those things are gonna find us if we stay here-”

“Then you have to kill them before they do.” Grian says. Mumbo’s mouth drops open. “I know I said-” Grian winces. “I know I said I didn’t want to lose anybody, but...”

Grian props himself up as best he can with one hand. “...the meteor.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe there’s still a chance. You’ve got to destroy the meteor, Mumbo. It’s like Iskall said, y’know? The hive mind?”

“What do you mean?” 

“If you take the head out, the whole thing goes down. Cleo was right. We have to try. I’m no help, but... it’s up to you now, Mumbo.”

“Okay, okay... yeah, okay.” Mumbo gets up and paces around, trying to wrap his head around everything. The meteor. He has to destroy it somehow. With what? He doesn’t have anything useful left in his inventory. No rockets. No weapons. Nothing.

He looks around, his eyes landing on Scar’s crushed body. It’s- He... He’s got to have _something_ in his inventory, right? Mumbo runs up to him, staying clear of the blue goo that’s slowly creeping out of his wounds. He best not touch it.

Scar... _of course._ He was infected, too. Has been since this morning, just like Cub. That’s why they couldn’t get to the Nether portal inside of Sahara. That’s why Iskall and all the others were hiding behind the trash cans outside! How could he forget that? How could he make such a mistake? Now Grian is... Now he’s _hurt,_ all because of Mumbo. It’s all because of his incompetence. _Dammit._ He has to fix this. He has to try. Mumbo doesn’t know if he could live with himself if he’d let even _one_ more person get hurt because of him.

No, it’s not just him. It can’t be- Grian didn’t suspect a thing either, right? These aliens, it’s like they’re... like they’re getting better and better at hiding themselves. Getting better at pretending.

Scar’s pockets are as good as empty. No potions to help Grian with, no bandages and no clean clothes, either. Mumbo does find a quarter stack of cobblestone, a couple blocks of TNT, and a flint & steel, however. It’s not much, but it should do the trick. _God,_ Mumbo hopes that it will do the trick.

Mumbo quickly places a few of the cobblestone blocks around Grian. It’s not much for shelter, but if anything, it would hide him from the infected hermits. At least long enough for someone to come save him. There’s gotta be somebody else out there. There’s simply no way they’re the only two left. Mumbo helps Grian lean his head back against the wall. He hugs him tightly, as carefully as possible.

Mumbo pulls back and Grian gives him a weak smile. A weak, but hopeful smile. Then his expression changes for a fraction of a second, and he coughs. He coughs up blood, straight up into Mumbo’s face.

“Wh- _crap,_ are you okay?” Mumbo asks, concerned.

But to his surprise Grian just giggles. “I think that was all of it, yeah. You’ve er,” He gestures vaguely towards his own nose. “You’ve got something on your...”

Mumbo quickly wipes at his face, effectively smearing the blood all over. 

“I’m sorry about your face. And your suit.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s not like I’ll be needing it for a meeting anymore, right?” Mumbo chuckles. His nerves are calmed a bit when Grian manages to laugh as well, not coughing anything up this time.

“Will you be okay in here?”

“Of course, you spoon. You know me, now go and destroy that bloody thing.”

Mumbo squeezes Grian’s hand, taking in the sight of his face for just a second longer. It- this might be-

No. It isn’t. He _will_ see Grian again. He’s going to destroy that meteor, and he’s going to bring all of their friends back. They’ll all be together again. Mumbo will make sure of it.

“Okay. So, I just need to... get to the bunker, destroy the meteor, and everything will go back to normal?”

“Yeah, I sure as hell hope so.” Grian huffs. “We’re not far off from the hippie camp, right? You can still use the tunnel.”

“Right. Yes. Down the toilet in Renbob’s RV, right?” Grian nods.

“Okay. Okay. I can do this. I’m going to do this.” He nods back at Grian. “You stay here and try to hold on, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Hey. Don’t forget your promise. You are going to teach me how to do redstone, remember?” Grian holds out his hand, and Mumbo grabs it. He has to fight the tears in his eyes from falling for the millionth time this day. 

“Of course I remember. We’ll get out of this mess, and then I’ll teach you everything I know.” He squeezes Grian’s hand, too afraid to jostle him any harder.

“Be careful, Mumbo.” He says. Mumbo steps back and nods.

“I’ll see you soon, Grian.”

He turns around and leaves the little makeshift hut. He faces the hippie compound. It’s eerily quiet. 

Mumbo waves goodbye, and takes off towards the RVs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...What a ride, eh?


	13. He’s a comin’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be mindful of the tags, I do not want to upset anyone any more than I set out to do!! The emeto tw is for this and the next chapter. Stay safe!!

Mumbo breaks the quartz blocks that separate the underground bunker from the surrounding dirt. A faint blue glow spills into the hippie tunnel, and Mumbo has to squint against it to see how far the drop is. He gulps.

Well. This is it. It’s now or never.

He’s broken in. Mumbo chuckles softly. The hippies made it seem so more difficult than it really is. Mumbo deploys his elytra and glides down to the floor.

He takes a deep breath, taking in his surroundings. It's quiet. The only sounds coming from the dim fluorescent lights above. It doesn’t seem like anyone’s here, thankfully. Though he has a nagging suspicion that it won’t stay that way for too long.

The blue glow appears to become brighter and brighter to his left. Mumbo can only guess that the meteor is somewhere in that direction. Well, no point in wasting any more time than he already has. Mumbo sets off, keeping a steady pace as he walks down the hallway.

The corridor splits off into two different directions at the very end. Mumbo keeps following the light, listening to his footsteps echo eerily against the empty walls. 

He passes room after room, corridors branching off into seemingly every direction. It’s like a maze. Despite the layout seeming so clear-cut, so organized, Mumbo begins to feel dizzy looking around.  
It’s like the hallways stretch out before him, the end of each section of tunnel growing farther and farther away before his very eyes.

Mumbo passes more corridors. More rooms. The blue light slowly but surely becoming more intense. He wonders what in the world the H.I.B. could possibly need so many rooms for. What could they possibly be keeping down here? When did they even have the time to dig this all out in the first place?

Mumbo clutches the flint & steel in his hands nervously. He reminds himself of why he’s down here in the first place. 

Grian. 

His friends.

The meteor took them all away from him. And now he’s here to take them back. 

He’s going to find that thing, destroy it, and everything will go back to normal. It’ll work. It _has_ to work.

Another corridor. Two more rooms. Room room room room. What a weird word, ‘room’, if you think about it. Mumbo repeats it a couple times, giggling to himself. At his sudden moment of weirdness in such a tense situation.

Corridor. Corridor. Room.

“Corridor. Corridor. _Room room room.”_

Hey, that’s not bad. Actually, that’s pretty catchy.

He begins humming the tune. A sway in his step.

_“Corridor, corridor, room room room.”_

When he realizes what he’s doing he stops dead in his tracks. Mumbo's eyes go wide. Did he just- no. No, he must be imagining it. He isn’t infected, he isn’t- He doesn’t even _like_ singing! 

He takes another deep breath, shakes his head, and continues onward.

_“Corridor, corridor, room room room 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Room room room, room room 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Mumbo's heart drops when he realizes that the singing is coming from _himself._ He trips over his own feet when he sees that he’s skipping to the beat. He falls to the ground, dropping the flint & steel. He presses his hands to his mouth. From the corner of his eyes he can see a door to one of the rooms open up. Someone walks out into the cor- _hallway._ Mumbo squints.

“Ren..?”

 _“That was a nice tune, Mumbo, why’d you stop?”_ He asks. His voice sounds unnatural.

“I- You-” Mumbo hoists himself upright again, walking backwards. “You’re not him. Ren is dead. He’s gone.”

‘Ren’ smiles sadly at him, cocking his head to the side. _“And whose fault is that, Mumbo? You left me there. You let me die.”_

Mumbo shakes his head. _No._ That’s not true. That’s not true he would never let him die! They were going to escape! They were going to save False and get out of there unscathed! All of them!

Oh god, Ren... At least... At least he died human. 

Not that it seemed to matter much, in the end.

Mumbo’s back meets with a wall. Startled by another sound close behind him, he turns around. Stress’s sudden appearance from behind a corner has Mumbo clutching his chest.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... Ba ra, ba ra pa pa... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Other voices begin to echo throughout the underground facility.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo, dooo... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Fan, fan, lever, slab 𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 A nice cup, of tea, a cup, cup, of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Dragon bros... Dragon bros... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Ba na, na na na na... Na na na na…𝅘𝅥𝅮”_

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Hermitgang, hermitgang, hermitgang, hermitgang... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo, guinea pig dance! 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Sips of tea, sips, sips, of tea 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

“Shut up. Shut up shut _up.”_ It’s like they bounce off of the walls and straight into Mumbo’s own head as well. 

Then, all at once, they begin singing the same thing, copying what Mumbo himself tries so badly not to sing along to.

 _“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Corridor, corridor, room room room,  
_ _Corridor, corridor, room room room room 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

 _“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Room room room room,  
_ _Room room room room room 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Mumbo presses his hands to his ears, trying to block out their words. Their _song._ But it’s so catchy, it... sounds so _nice._

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Room room room room, room,  
Room room room room room 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Mumbo begins to feel short of breath. Nauseous, even. He drops to the floor. He can tell he’s shaking but it’s like his mind is at war with himself. “What’s... what’s happening?” he huffs. 

_“It’s the meteor, Mumbo. The closer you get the thicker its spores are. Feel your apotheosis begin as they take root in your mind!”_ Cub’s voice sounds.

No... He can’t be infected. Not after all this. Not when he's so close to saving everybody!

Mumbo sticks his finger in the back of his throat, trying to get himself to puke. It has to get out. He throws up, clutching his stomach with his other hand. He stares in horror as blue goo drops to the floor. 

_“You’ll be one of us before you can use that flint!”_

_“No... Please... No, no no no no no... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_ Mumbo’s breath hitches when he realizes that even his pleas for help come out of his mouth being sung. Rhythmic. 

He coughs. He coughs up more blue stuff. 

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 No no no no, no no no no... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Mumbo struggles to stand up straight, but he manages. He narrowly avoids the hands grasping at him, ducking in between two pairs of legs. He quickly grabs the flint & steel and looks around, trying to orient himself again. The blue light is particularly bright to his left.

Mumbo takes a deep breath, presses his lips shut tightly, and runs. It’s the only thing he can do. Even _if_ he’s half-dancing. Even _if_ the melody is taking over his mind. He has to get to that meteor. He has to destroy it before it destroys him. Before he’s corrupted. If it’s the last thing he does.

The hermits around him all bop their heads to the beat with devious smiles on their faces.

 _“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Corridor, corridor, room room room,  
_ _Corridor, corridor, room room room room 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

He notices more and more hermits- _former_ hermits creeping out of the nooks and crannies of the underground facility. They follow him, all humming that same tune. That god awful _catchy_ ear-wormy tune. Mumbo has half a mind to sing along. He so desperately wants to sing along, just to get the fighting in his head to stop. No. No no _no no no._ He has to keep going.

Finally he reaches a back wall. The blue light is almost too dense to see through properly. He didn’t think he was going to make it. But he’s here. The huge metal garage-like door is opened slightly. Just enough for Mumbo to crawl under. He does so.

Mumbo gets up, his legs still shaking. 

There it is. 

The meteor. 

Now that he’s face to face with it, he- he doesn’t know what to think. Did he think it’d be larger? Or is it bigger than he imagined? A strange howl-like sound cuts through the air, piercing Mumbo’s ears. He clutches his head, trying to block it out. Mumbo stumbles forwards. If it’s really a hive mind of sorts, then... then it must know that he’s here to destroy it.

The other hermits crawl under the door behind him. He can hear them. Their humming and singing becoming louder and louder. Mumbo’s heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of his chest, like... like it’s beating to a different, nervous rhythm. He takes out a block of TNT from his inventory.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and he yelps, clutching the TNT to his chest. Mumbo turns around.

It’s Iskall, no, it’s the hive mind wearing Iskall’s face to fool him. From this close Mumbo can see the _wrongness_ in his features. His lifeless eyes. The smile tugging the corners of his lips up just a little too far. The blue hue of the meteor highlighting the fact that he’s become part of some otherworldly race.

 _“Mumbo...”_ He says. _“Won’t you join the Dragon Bros again?”_

“Get back!” Mumbo yells, shaking off Iskall’s hand. “I light this block and you’re all toast.”

 _“You wouldn’t do that, Mumbo.”_ Ren says, crawling up unnaturally from underneath the metal door.

“I sure as hell will.”

 _“But you’d die too, is that what you want?”_ Cub strides past, brushing Mumbo’s cheek with the back of his hand. Mumbo shudders. He feels stuck to the ground.

“...It doesn’t matter what I want.”

_“We think it does, Mumbo.”_

“What I want- I want...” Mumbo considers his words. He gulps, then straightens his back. 

The zombie-like hermits smile and crawl closer.

“I want my friends back.” He says, feeling a little proud that he managed to actually _say_ it.

 _“But we’re right here. We’re happy. You can join us if you’d like.”_ Tango-but-not-Tango’s voice sounds.

Mumbo is beginning to feel angry. Why in the world is he arguing with them? 

“What I want,” He sucks in a breath in between his teeth. “Is a normal day on the server. I want Sahara to become a successful business endeavour, and I want to share that with my friends and coworkers.” He really has to fight to keep his voice level. To keep his words from coming out in a song.

The infected hermits begin to brush their hands across his face, his arms, everywhere. A memory enters Mumbo’s mind. No, a vision. He’s in the Sahara meeting room, holding his speech in front of Cub and Scar. He’s fumbling with the notes in his hands, but the ConVex are listening intently, taking notes. Iskall is smiling at him, nodding along. Ren’s there too, and on the far end of the table is... Grian...

Grian is waiting for him. He’s still out there, heavily wounded. Grian’s counting on him.

Mumbo violently shakes his head. It could have been like that. It _should_ have been like that.

 _“We can still be happy. Together.”_ Cub practically purrs.

“No.”

 _“Don’t you want to be happy? What is it you want, Mumbo?”_ He says. He sounds much less friendly. Annoyed, even. 

“I want... I want...”

The hermits brush up closer, grasping at his suit, his arms, holding him tightly. Mumbo feels sick. He’s pushed back against the meteor. It feels strangely cold.

 _“No!”_ Mumbo pulls away with all his might, freeing his arms just enough to spark the flint and steel against the block of TNT.

 _“W᷅ê w͐i͠l͍l᷄ nͅo̴t͋ b̐e̼ r͏e̴s̏i̤s᷀t̴e̪ḓ..!”_ The infected hermits almost scream in unison. They claw at his arms, try to pull him back. But Mumbo twists himself around, fighting off the call of the meteor as well as the hermits surrounding him.

He snarls.

“Give me back my 

God.

Damn.

_Friends!”_

Mumbo slams the lit block of TNT into the meteor.

It explodes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [It’s like snakes and ladders but corridors and rooms](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZT_4ViBjmL8)   
>  [𝅘𝅥𝅮 Oh... oh no... 𝅘𝅥𝅮](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_3DdK9SVcg)
> 
> So, er... anyone keeping tabs on all the dead/infected hermits?
> 
> One chapter left. I wonder what will happen...


	14. What if I told you a story

Everything hurts. The world is dark. No, it’s just that his eyes are closed. Grian opens them, blinking at the harsh light. He’s laying down. He’s in a... a bed? Where is he? Why does his head hurt so much?

Grian tries to sit up, but he’s being pressed down by something. A hand. A _person._ Grian blinks and tries to focus his eyes. Slowly the person comes into view. It’s... Renbob? Huh.

“Hey, I’m so glad you’re awake, man!” He says.

Grian groans. “Wh- Where am I? What happened? Where is-?”

“Easy with the questions, brother, we’ll explain everything, my dude.” He smiles down softly at Grian. Grian manages a smile back. He can hear birds singing outside. The air seems peaceful, despite the pain coursing through his body.

“We found you just outside Area 77, brother, your leg was all messed up but don’t you worry, Renbob’s got you covered with his all-natural medicine, man!”

His leg? Grian moves to sit upright and _oh. Yeah._ He hisses at the throbbing pain that emanates from his left leg.

Now he remembers. The iron bar. It had gone straight through him. He... they... they’d taken the helicopter, and then... then what happened?

Renbob helps him sit up. It is now that Grian recognises that he’s in his old caravan. The warm colours of the various banners and flowers are a comforting, welcome sight.

He's handed a bowl of stew, and Grian gratefully accepts it. Though he can’t bring himself to eat anything just yet. Renbob gets up and leans out of the door of the caravan.

“Impulse, he’s awake, man!”

Renbob shoots him a smile and walks out. A couple seconds later Impulse appears in the doorway, making a beeline towards Grian.

“Grian! You're awake! How are you feeling?” Grian sets down the stew on the crafting table to his side, and Impulse carefully hugs him.

“Impulse! I- I’ve got so many questions, I-”

“I know, Grian, I know. The server has really taken a beating. And so have you, careful with that leg, alright?” He says.

“Can you just, please tell me what happened?”

Impulse nods, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “First off... What do you remember?”

“I remember, I remember Mumbo. We were in a helicopter. I think we were going to leave the server? God, I can’t believe you guys are still here, I thought you were all gone! All assimilated into that... that, alien mother brain? I don’t even know how to begin describing it.”

Impulse chuckles. “Tell me about it. We’ve been here, watching in fear as everything fell apart around us. There wasn’t a lot we could do, to be honest. I’m glad we found you when we did.”

"Found me..?" Grian digs through his mind to remember. Scar was there too, and... They crashed. The pain, the _blood_ everywhere... Grian shudders.

“Mumbo, he- he went to destroy the meteor. Did it work? Is everybody okay?”

Impulse nods.

“And Xisuma? Beef? All the others?”

“All alive.” He says.

“It worked... It really worked!” Grian flings his arms around Impulse’s neck. “I can’t believe it!”

“So, where’s Mumbo?”

...

Impulse’s ever-present smile drops. Grian’s heart sinks in his chest.

“What Mumbo did was... It was something none of us could have ever asked of him. He sacrificed himself for the server. He was a good man.”

Tears begin to roll down Grian’s cheeks before he even processes those words. He wipes at his eyes, but he can’t control their flow.

“He’s... “ Grian trails off. His thoughts are racing a mile a minute, he- he doesn’t know what to think anymore. Impulse grabs his hand and squeezes it softly, grounding him a bit.

“But we must move on. You know that, right? We won’t let his sacrifice be in vain.” Grian sniffs and nods, letting go of Impulse.

“Plus, a little birdy told me that you’d like to learn redstone, so... I’ve managed to collect a couple of shulkers full of supplies for you to get started with. They’re outside, waiting for you.”

“Really?” Grian smiles at the thoughtful gesture. “Impulse, you- thank you so much.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do.” Impulse gives his hand another squeeze and then gets up.

“I better get back to work. We’ve got a lot of things to fix. The statue of Hermity, just to name one thing.” 

“Mhm.” 

As Impulse reaches the door he turns around.

“Oh, one more thing. I know how hard it can be to try and figure redstone out all by yourself, so... I found someone to teach you all you need to know.”

“Oh?”

“He’s waiting outside.” Impulse winks, and closes the door behind him.

Grian looks at the door, puzzled. Someone’s waiting for him? Outside? Curiosity gets the better of him, and he moves to get out of bed, stew completely forgotten. Grian winces as he puts his weight on his bad leg, but he’ll manage. He can stand, he can walk, and that is more than enough.

He makes his way to the door, almost slamming the button to get it to open. He hops outside, into the sunlight that’s shining brightly into the hippie camp. It’s a strangely beautiful day. The boom box is playing a lovely, quiet tune. _Cat,_ Grian’s favourite. Despite everything that transpired, the music manages to calm his nerves.

Grian slowly glances around, and catches a glimpse of what must be a dozen red shulker boxes, which are all presumably filled with redstone, just for him. Impulse really didn’t have to go that far, especially considering that he saved Grian from certain death by bleeding out just the other night, as well. Still, it warms Grian’s heart, knowing that they still care so much about him, even if he technically isn’t a hippie anymore.

His gaze follows the row of shulkers, and on the very last one dangles a pair of legs, breaking the long row of red. Those are some mighty slick dress shoes. The pair of pants accompanying them looks familiar, though Grian’s never seen them as neat as this before. They’re usually covered in bits of redstone dust, bringing the dapper and formal look down quite a notch.

His heart races when he looks up, following that long, long pair of legs up. Past a new, clean suit jacket that looks way too hot for this kind of weather, and an all too familiar red tie. His mustache is combed neatly, unlike what Grian has become accustomed to since... yesterday? How long has it actually been?

Grian stumbles forward in disbelief, the way the man smiles at him is almost too good to be true. Grian falls into his arms, unable to control his tears yet again. But this time... this time they’re not sad. This time they’re tears of happiness.

_“...Mumbo?!”_ Grian clutches to him tightly. Mumbo’s soft laughs reverberate through his chest.

“You made it! We made it!!!” He hugs Mumbo closer, closer, not wanting to let go. He thought he didn’t have any tears left but here they are, falling uncontrollably, staining Mumbo’s signature suit. He’s here! Mumbo’s here! _He’s actually here..!_

“So, Grian, ready to learn about redstone?” Mumbo says as he pulls away. It’s so nice to hear his voice again. It feels like he hasn’t heard him in _ages._

Grian nods and wipes his tears away. He lets himself fall down onto the next shulker over as to not strain his leg too much. Mumbo hops off and opens the shulker he’s been sitting on, and he begins digging through it.

“We’ve got some cactus, string, and sand.” Mumbo tosses the items into Grian’s lap. A cactus farm, huh? Grian can’t wait to get started.

“Cactus, string, sand... Y’know what? That sounds pretty good to me.”

Mumbo begins to hum as he pulls out more items. Grian’s smile drops. 

“Mumbo? Is everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer. Not the in way Grian hoped for, at least. He keeps repeating those words, that little tune.

_“_ _Some more cactus, string, sand.”_

“...Mumbo?”

He turns to face Grian. Smiling. He stands up and towers over him. A chill runs down Grian’s spine.

_“Cactus, string, sand 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

“Mumbo, you’re scaring me-” Suddenly Mumbo grabs Grian’s wrists harsly and pulls him off of the shulker. All the items drop to the ground.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Cactus, string, sand 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

“Mumbo, please...”

The peaceful music cuts off abruptly, catching Grian’s attention. He turns around to look. Impulse is standing by the boom box, holding the _Cat_ disc. He puts a new one in.

It's once again something Grian has never heard before. Somehow it perfectly supports Mumbo’s... Mumbo’s _song._

“Impulse... what?” He whispers in disbelief. He’s pulled back again, into Mumbo’s arms. Mumbo spins him around, bowing and twirling as he sings.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Cactus, string, sand... Cactus, string, sand 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

“No!” Grian tries to pull his hand loose, but Mumbo’s grip doesn’t give. “Get away from me, you’re not Mumbo, you’re one of _them!”_

Mumbo spins him around and finally lets go of his hands. Grian stumbles backwards, just barely catching his balance on his bad leg. He immediately turns around and runs as fast as he can. He runs past his RV, past the farm. He has to get away, he... he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. Where even he’s supposed to go.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Cactus, pillar, cactus 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Grian stops in his tracks when he sees other figures in the distance. Other hermits. It’s a sight that should have given him hope, but instead just chills his blood.

Doc. Cleo. Beef. Xisuma. Ren.

It’s like they appeared out of nowhere, crawling from behind the barn. Grian quickly turns the other way, but from the corner of his eye he can see more hermits pouring in through the thick line of trees. They creep closer, skipping and twirling and singing along to Mumbo’s song.

Grian stumbles back to try and make his way out through the farm. If he can just reach the water, then- 

He shrieks when Renbob appears around the corner, blocking his way.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Cactus, pillar, cactus, brick wall 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Renbob lunges out at him and grabs him by his shoulders. Grian squirms to get away but Impulse quickly joins them, grabbing his wrists which still feel raw where Mumbo had held him. 

“No, no no no no _please..!”_

He doesn’t understand. All this time... All this time they were...

Grian cries in pain when Impulse kicks him in his shins. He’s quickly pushed to the ground, his arms twisted behind his back. Subdued.

_There’s got to be a way out of this. This has got to be a dream. A bad, bad dream._

It feels both more real and surreal the more hermits creep out from the trees. Wels, Biffa, Iskall- They all sing, hands reached out like claws towards him.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Cactus, string, sand... Cactus, string, sand... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

He’s surrounded.

The hermits close in on him. They’re all here. Everybody... They’re still... and they never will... _Oh god..._ Grian stifles a sob.

Mumbo skips into view, the other hermits making way for him. He drops down in front of Grian, face-to-face.  
Grian’s heart is beating out of his chest. From here he can see just how _wrong_ he looks. 

He watches with wide eyes as Mumbo retches up a gross, familiar blue goo into his hands. Someone behind him pulls at his hair to tilt his head back, and somebody else forces his mouth open with their hands. Grian can see Mumbo stand up. Looming over him. He can only watch as Mumbo drops the blue goo down his throat.

They squeeze his nose shut, and Grian is forced to swallow the cold, slimy substance. He tries to cough but the hand keeps his mouth closed. Once he swallows they finally let go of his head. Grian heaves, taking deep breaths, spluttering and trying to cough it up. He shudders. He's going to be sick. He has to get away, he...

Heh. That’s funny. He didn’t think it’d hurt this much. A burning sensation in his back quickly sets all his nerves on fire. Is he sweating? It feels warm. It feels all too easy to give into.

It's like he can’t breathe. Grian desperately gasps and coughs again. He can feel hot, thick liquid escape his throat, seeping down his cheeks. His throat feels raw, but all too quickly the pain fades away.

The hermits looming over him look overly pleased.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Cactus, string, sand... Cactus, string, sand 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

Already he can feel some sick form of appreciation for their song growing in the back of his mind. It sounds... nice. Inviting. Grian wants to sing. He wants to _scream,_ but his throat feels numb.

His mind screams at him. Screams at him to do something. To run, to live, to _survive._ But he’s overpowered. Outnumbered. He doesn’t want to become part of this alien race, and yet- all his friends have been taken before him. They’re all dead. 

Grian realizes, he’s the only one left.

He- he’s going to join them, isn’t he? 

Grian feels himself go limp, and the hermits let go of him. He drops to the ground, face-first. He can feel their hands all across his body, clawing at his back, tangling inside his hair. It feels so, so wrong and at the same time comforting.

He never wanted this. He never wanted any of this to happen. He just. He just... Grian forgets the thought as soon as it enters his mind.

But, he supposes, if they can’t move on to a new world, then... Then this world will go on forever. Right? He won’t have to say goodbye. He’ll never have to say goodbye again. He’ll be with his friends. They’ll all be together.

_“ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 Cactus, string, sand... Cactus, string, sand... 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ”_

The hermits’ voices sound muffled and at the same time clearer than ever. Their twisted smiles don’t look as twisted anymore. Grian feels the corners of his mouth curl up too.

Their voices echo through his mind like a sweet lullaby, pulling him in closer and at the same time chasing him away. 

“Mumbo... you promised...” Is the last thing he can manage to say before he sings along.

Mumbo smiles down at him. Grian’s head feels fuzzy.

There’s no point in struggling.

Doc is going to have his way. The entire server, together as one. Finally united in song and mind.

Grian supposes that they never even stood a chance.

He gives in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What if I told you a story, how the world became peaceful and just? It was inevitable.
> 
> _Inevitable._
> 
> _Inevitable~𝅘𝅥𝅮_
> 
> _Ţ̀̃h͇͒ͧe̿᷈̐ a̘̻̹p̮̈͞ǒ̢̋ț͊̓h̷̡ͦe̗̝᷃o̗̣̊s͈̑̔í᷊̞s͓͗͆ i̡̖͆s̸̰͞ ŭ̮̑p̰͎̊o͔ͩ̇n̲̑̏ ŭ̓͠s̺͇̆.̶̇᷇.̳̺_
> 
> [𝅘𝅥𝅮 Cactus, string, sand 𝅘𝅥𝅮](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_cA4p1DvzU)
> 
> And [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s5Di5dk7sIs) is what the server is like from there on out. What a happy bunch..! Season Sixfinity goes on forever and ever and all the hermits live happily ever after :)
> 
> ...and there we have it! My goodness... Thank you so much for reading!! I’ve had a blast working on this project, and your comments and reactions during posting made it all very much worth it! I hope you enjoyed it, despite the amount of, ahem, death and singing-zombification...  
> Let me know what you thought! 
> 
> From a meeting at Sahara to the admin of the server succumbing to the invading alien race. From the H.I.B. monitoring the entire situation to the collapse of hermitkind. Thank you for sticking with me through this adventure! <3 And to those of you who read this all in one go: I salute you!
> 
> So what’s next? Who’s to say, really? Inspiration seems to come out of nowhere. I’ve got many ideas that I’d like to develop properly, so don’t expect me to drop off the face of the earth just yet!


End file.
